


For Convenience' Sake

by Danmujiji



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alpha Bokuto Koutarou, Alpha Iwaizumi Hajime, Alpha Kuroo Tetsurou, Alpha Oikawa Tooru, Alpha Sawamura Daichi, Alpha/Alpha, Alpha/Beta, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, And Lots of It, Beta Akaashi Keiji, Beta Sugawara Koushi, Cuddling & Snuggling, Denial of Feelings, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fake Dating, Fluff and Humor, Kuroken focused, M/M, Most of this is just Kuroo/Bokuto getting increasingly whipped for their partners, Multi, Mutual Pining, Nekoma as Kuroo's research team, Not sex-focused, Omega Hinata Shouyou, Omega Kozume Kenma, References to Depression, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Social Anxiety, Supportive Bokuto Koutarou, This is a SLOW BURN ABO and Im serious, akaashi is tired, also includes ABO worldbuilding of my own, and that's valid, with BokuAka intermissions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2019-10-13 23:36:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 154,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17497490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danmujiji/pseuds/Danmujiji
Summary: Kozume Kenma is an Omega living a less-than-satisfactory life who is offered a contract from Kuroo Tetsurou, an Alpha biochemist, offering to mark him for a life of comfort and safety. In exchange, Kenma must act as Kuroo's partner, among other things. For convenience' sake, knowing that he'll never get an opportunity to live comfortably as an Omega,  Kenma soon accepts.But something strange is up with Kuroo. Alphas were supposed to be dominant and had the potential to be absolutely terrifying with their pheromones if they so wished, yet Kuroo seemed to go with the flow of things, and Kenma never detected his scent when they first met. He's curious, begrudgingly so, but as Kenma and Kuroo get closer living together, they both realize some things aren't as simple as they thought.





	1. Something New

As far as Kenma was concerned, he lived for convenience. It manifested itself in many different ways; from his low energy and thus inability to exert greater efforts, to his preference for handhelds and mobile games, and even with his own intellect which could easily analyze things, people, and events, in order to suit his own convenience. All of this, with the exception of his secondary gender. 

Kenma Kozume was designated an Omega at the age of 15. It explained a lot of things, like his weaker, shorter body, lowered stamina, and his acute sense for when things were going south, and were going to be very inconvenient. Truthfully, the world was unkind to people like him. Omegas were among those at the lower rungs of the hierarchy. At some point he wished he were a Beta who could go unnoticed, forming majority of the world’s population, but soon he relinquished the idea, finding the desire to be more as intrusive and inconvenient to his day-to-day life. With that came the acceptance that he was never going to be “more.” 

He couldn’t even be “average.”

Kenma Kozume would always be “less”. And he decided he wouldn’t fight it. Going through the motions of life with a begrudging silence; transitioning from his middle school to an Omega-only senior high school, to a brief time at university, and finally as an adult with a decently-paying job. He decided for convenience’ sake it was better to want no more. It made things easier for him, and he was always careful not to overstep his boundaries with others and similarly, avoided treading any fine lines to live a safe and easy existence even as an Omega. 

Currently he worked as a sales clerk at a game store. He and his coworkers (Betas) worked the cash register, stocked the shelves, tidied up, among other things. The only exception for him was that he was not allowed to deal with the customers directly. The distance between the customer and the counter was the most they were allowing him to come in ‘contact’ with someone, just in case they were an Alpha. 

It was unnecessary, in his opinion, but he kept his mouth shut because it was easy for him to avoid dealing with people. Although he wore his suppression patches and other inhibitors which wiped his scent clean from the earth, the manager thought there could be the slightest possibility of something ‘unsavory’ happening at work. The only downside to this was that they paid him slightly less than the others because he ‘dealt with less things.’ Other than his “disadvantages” as the manager put it, and perhaps his general aversion to moving his face, he was otherwise the perfect employee, and he should be grateful he was being paid this much at all.  
Sure, Kenma thought to himself as yet again, he was the one left to close up the shop yet again. For being so concerned with his well-being at work, the manager was keen on making sure he was the last one to leave. After a full day of work he was left feeling drained and tired. His back ached from lifting boxes of cases and consoles, and he could already feel a headache coming on.

At the least he was being paid for it. 

Despite being mind-numbing work and somehow making games, one of his few hobbies to be tiring, he was getting paid for it, and he wouldn’t complain any further. 

But damn, he’d have to jog at least to catch the train home. Omega-only carriages arrived at intervals of every hour, and he just wanted to get home so he could rest. His legs felt like they were moving through wet concrete with each grueling step towards the train station. The night was cold and humid as well, making his shirt stick to his skin. His jacket didn’t help, but it was better than the risk of letting his pheromones out. 

Thankfully, the streets were fairly populated. Students walking home from cram school at this time, in little clusters, and sharp-looking businessmen departing from work, and the occasional couple or family passed him by. Kenma tugged his cap down and felt himself shrinking into his jacket jogging by anyone who was walking alone opposite him, and he avoided nearing dark alleys. He should be grateful, really. The store was in a nice location which attracted good foot traffic and the manager was never too hard on them to make sales, and the streets weren’t sketchy at night, and he was getting paid, dammit! 

Unfortunately, the thought of his paycheck never did his anxiety favors this late at night. Kenma was panting by the time he got to the station, where he slowed down to a pace his legs were grateful for. He pulled out his train pass, navigating his way through the station until he met the fare gates for the Omega carriage line. The gates were made specifically to scan Omega-registered pass holders. Anything other than an Omega would be denied entry. The turnstiles opened and he went right through. 

He made it just as the train pulled up. It only had three cars and was given a simple paint job of a solid pink which was a bit of a mockery, considering how it was chipped at certain areas. The only exception was the train’s railway printed in solid black letters: LINE 0. A small crowd of Omegas were lined up before the cars, and Kenma took his spot behind an old woman clutching a paper bag of groceries. Her fingers were scrawny and bone-like, and the shawl draped over her shoulders were loose and fraying at the edges. 

Aboard the train weren’t much people, but some Omegas were left to stand. Kenma took a seat near the doors. It felt lumpy and he could feel the vinyl chipping through his pants. The ventilation wasn’t of any good either, and he found it hard to breathe in closed spaces like these. But he was safe here, it was assured he was. Moments later, the train hissed and they began to move. He pulled out his old PSP from his backpack and took out his earphones, beginning to play a game. If he was willing to spend his hard-earned cash on anything, it would be games. His job made it irritating to sell them to snivelly kids who demanded their parents buy some overpriced junk because the cover was cool, or try and dissuade teens from sneaking M-rated games past him, but games themselves were one of the few things he liked to do. He had all the time for a hunt in Monster Hunter, as the train still had ten stops left. 

Then his hunt was paused when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He grunted in disdain, and pulled it out to reveal a message from one of his few friends, Akaashi Keiji. Akaashi was a Beta who worked as an secretary to some guy named Bokuto. He was a man of a few words, but due to his strenuous job of handling this Alpha, Kenma was often the receiving end of Akaashi’s rants directed towards his overly-chipper boss. Even now the name ‘Bokuto’ elicited a wave of exhaustion from Kenma. He read the text: 

Akaashi Keiji: Kenma. One of Bokuto’s friends want to meet you.  
He’s an Alpha named Kuroo Tetsurou.

Kozume Kenma: I’m not interested. Tell him I’m too busy. 

Akaashi Keiji: It’s not like that. It’s for something else. I’m not too clear on the details but  
Bokuto told me to pass his number along to you. XX-OOO-OXO-XXO

Kozume Kenma: Ok. But I’m not doing anything with it. 

Akaashi Keiji: As long as it gets Bokuto off my back, do what you want. 

Their conversation ended after that. Kenma shoved his phone back into his pocket and exhaled slowly. All of a sudden, he really wanted to kill that monster on his PSP. He finished slaying the cat-like monster called Nargacuga in record time, and he did it again, his face scrunched up in concentration as he tapped away on the handheld, nearly missing his stop in the process. Kenma hissed and stumbled out of the train at the D-12 block, his head glued to the screen as he was rewarded. Placing the handheld back inside his bag, Kenma began to walk out of the station, and towards home. It was cooler outside, with much less people and cars going about. He shoved his hands inside his pockets, gripping a small can of mace in one, and his keys in another. 

The D-12 block was a sequestered block of apartments and residential buildings meant only for Omegas and their families. The perimeter was fenced off with thick iron-wrought gates which at the time it had been installed (around 1980) looked fashionable, but now in its rusted and overly-elaborate state looked oddly humorous, especially since the swirling decoration was protecting what was only a couple of levels away from a slum. Past the gates were dull gray apartments looking dilapidated and worn out by weathering. Not much else, other than a parking lot and a small family-run grocer, and some other minor services. There was a park, but he struggled to call it that. He preferred to think of it as a graveyard of dull plastic animals and slides where ‘children’s dreams go to die.’ Nobody went there, and the block manager could care less about its maintenance. 

But hey, the government was generous enough to provide a guard post to accompany the gates, at least. So they could be safe. The guard post functioned like the fare gates. All Kenma had to do was present his citizen’s ID to be validated as a tenant, and Omega, and he could pass. The guards were Betas who were unaffected by any pheromones, so the Omegas living in had nothing to worry about an Alpha couldn’t force their way in. Likewise, Beta guards would be unaffected by the scent of Omegas in heat or any other pheromone-related incident. 

Kenma then recalled something like that as he entered the D-12 block. A few months back, an Omega was running, screaming their head off while an Alpha was chasing them. It was around 3AM, and the guards had to taze the Alpha because they wouldn’t calm down. The block manager was almost sued for ‘reckless endangerment of outsiders’, but the case was dismissed after they decided to settle. The poor Omega was left the hapless victim, and simply reprimanded for coming home so late and attracting people ‘like that.’

Fortunately nothing of the sort had happened to him. Although fading in some places, and not that pretty, D-12 was home. It had been home for the past couple of years now after he moved out from his parents’ house. Rent was cheap here, and the commute was reasonable enough, which meant that Kenma could actually survive after buying necessities. Maybe even live a little. And he liked having his own space, most of all. 

Even if that space was a little bit dilapidated, too. It was a one-bedroom unit with a small living room area, bathroom, and kitchenette 8 floors up, not too bad except when the elevator wasn’t working. It afforded him a nice view of the city past their block and some balcony privileges, too. He kept a number of plants there, mostly cacti though. Sometimes the rain did the watering for him, which was convenient. 

He slid his keys into the lock, his fingers red and aching from how hard he was gripping the keys. Slipping inside, Kenma shut the door as quickly and quietly as possible, then locked it. Sighing with relief, he slipped out of his shoes, then hung his jacket and keys on the wall-mounted coat rack. Slowly, he dragged himself to his room, and fell over the bed with a loud fwump! Followed by a groan from him. 

The tenant downstairs must hate him for doing this every single night. Kenma didn’t care, though. It was probably 10 in the evening or something, and owing it to his manager, he was too tired to get up to make anything, not even cup noodles for dinner. As he fell into a dreamless sleep, his phone buzzed with a notification. 

Unknown ID: This is Kuroo Tetsurou.  
Is this Kozume?  
We need to talk. Tell me when you’re vacant.  
I’ve got something interesting for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! This is my first time writing fanfic in a looong time, and this was fun to write!
> 
> Comments and Kudos are very much appreciated!


	2. Sneaky Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma has thoughts in the shower.

The following day, Kenma awoke with a start. He jolted upright and began to dig around his pockets for his phone. He fumbled as he unlocked it. It was 9:52 AM on a Sunday, and it was his day off. His head hurt from his abrupt movement and he had to squint just so his eyes wouldn’t hurt from the light. 

He groaned again and began to massage his temples, wondering how he forgot that when day-offs were the days he actually looked forward to. As he massaged the sleep out of his skull and his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw the texts from an unknown ID. He assumed this was that guy Akaashi was talking about. Kuroo Tetsurou from his introduction. Kenma hissed while scrolling through the screen and contemplated replying for a second before he put the phone face down onto his bed. Stretching with a yawn, he got up to make himself breakfast.

Not much inside, he thought as he opened his fridge. There was a partially nibbled apple sealed in cling wrap, leftovers from a few days ago, a couple bottles of water, and a package of wilted-looking vegetables. He’d gone through worse, but he didn’t want to waste anything. Pulling out a package of ramen from the cupboard (he took a mental note to buy more later), Kenma decided to make the most out of the vegetables. It’s not as if he particularly liked vegetables, seeing as he left them wilted enough to contemplate using, but the last time he had a checkup the doctor told him to expect more medical expenses if he didn’t take care of his health. Eating vegetables was inconvenient, but less than having to pay to get his stomach pumped, or be admitted, or something like that.

. Besides, the strong ramen flavoring covered up most of the vegetables’ flavor. Kenma was no cook but with the power of Maruchan, anything was possible it seemed. In just under twenty minutes, he had himself a heaping vegetable-and-pork ramen to eat as he binged shows on the web and texted with his friend Shouyou. He was another Omega, who was the complete opposite of Kenma. Personality-wise, at least. It wasn’t until 7 in the evening when he was finished with his food and halfway into some game analysis video that he decided to go take a shower. 

He entered the bathroom, but before the shower itself, he had to test if the plumbing was fully fixed. Last week a pipe had burst which meant they had no water for a couple of days until it was fixed. For days like that, he had to go out and take a shower at Akaashi’s place. He lived close enough for Kenma to take a detour from his job to there, but he didn’t want to overstay his welcome so he had to wait an hour for the next Line 0 train, despite the Beta’s insistence that he stayed. 

It seemed fine today, so he stripped his clothes while the shower ran, waiting for it to heat up. Now naked, Kenma reached behind him to take off his suppression patches. The patches were decent enough but only worked for a couple of hours a day. He used two yesterday; one at the back of his neck, and one at the base of his spine. While reaching around, he took a look at himself at the mirror. 

He didn’t consider himself ugly, but he wasn’t his type either.That’s narcissistic, he thought. And god was he scrawny with his clavicle jutting out like that. Barely any muscle in his bones, and a few spots here and there. He was like a vacuum-sealed person, although he had been told by others that his body was ‘elegant’. They were being polite, he reasoned. Besides, those ‘others’ were from high school. ‘Other’ Omegas like him who were raised to be… pleasant with their words because of how they should present themselves to others. 

Kenma felt a foreigner in his own skin because he was meant for everyone else. That’s why he wore clothes oversized to shield himself from prying eyes. He did little to try and reclaim it, other than bleaching his black hair blonde. He thought he did a shoddy job but it beat paying for a hairdresser, and having somebody else touch him. Other than that, he aimed to blend in, to be a spectator instead. He was nothing remarkable, save for the golden eyes which he kept hidden usually by keeping his face down, or on a screen, or under a cap or hood. Kenma didn’t like making eye contact and even staring at himself caused him to avert his line of sight. 

He wrenched himself from his thoughts. The patches were discarded. The shower had misted up the mirror, obscuring his reflection for which he was glad, and decided to hop in. Kenma relaxed underneath the warm water, letting wash over his naked form. Times like these made him consider letting his water bill go up a bit just so he can luxuriate under hot water. But contemplating to justify it usually got him to grab the soap and start scrubbing. He had other things to think about, and there would always be emergencies to save up for. With a heavy sigh, he turned off the tap and soaped himself while letting his mind wander. 

A few moments in, he remembered the text from Kuroo. It was all so out of the blue that an Alpha would just contact an Omega-- a stranger, through Akaashi. It sent a flurry of questions through his head. The most prominent: why me? Why not some other Omega? Who is Kuroo Tetsurou, and what is this for? Is this some fucked up sex arrangement? No, Akaashi wouldn’t let that happen. But what was this ‘interesting thing’ Kuroo had for him? It frustrated Kenma how curious he could make himself when he actually stopped to pay attention. 

The thoughts didn’t go away as he shampooed his hair. In fact, he found himself rubbing his head too hard because he was annoyed that he was curious. Curiosity never did him any good in real life, only in video games. 

Well, he told himself, I could just… not reply or text him forever. I should block that number, too. That’ll be the end of it then. 

He felt so self-assured as he opened the tap and let the warm water wash off all the soap from him. That would be the end of it, and nothing else would happen to him, and he could carry on like this for the rest of his life. 

Just like this, In a ‘okay’ apartment with an ‘okay’ job, and worrying about cash for the rest of his life. Worrying about the Omega Tax; for being something he didn’t choose. Worrying about attacks from strangers in the night because of what he is. Just like that. 

Yeah, that sounds okay, he nodded to himself. He stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. As he stepped outside the bathroom, he heard his phone buzz. Probably more texts from Kuroo, or work. He began to change into his clothes and started to dry his hair when it began to ring Akaashi’s tone, so he picked up immediately. 

“Akaashi?” Kenma spoke.

“Hey, this is Kozume, right?” A different voice answered. 

Kenma felt his stomach drop. He didn’t answer for a second before swallowing.  
“Speaking,” he said.

“Great. You weren’t answering my texts. Are you free tomorrow?”

“I have work,” Kenma said. 

“I can pick you up after. Where do you-”

“No.” This was an Alpha, but Kenma felt he had to put his foot down. He didn’t want this stranger knowing where he worked or coming to pick him up. It would be too conspicuous to have some Alpha walk up to the shop one day and directly ask for him. There was a pause from the other end. Kenma was praying that this Kuroo would take the hint and stop. 

“...Alright. But this is really, really important. I have a proposition for you.”

Kenma couldn’t stop himself from blurting out, “what is it?”

“It’s too complicated over the phone, but you’ll get a lot of compensation for it. You sound interested, so maybe should convince you to meet up. Take a day off work tomorrow, it’ll be worth your time, I promise.”

Damn, that Kuroo was sharp. Kenma wanted to curse at him, especially for suggesting he just ‘take a day off work’ like it was a normal thing. He already took three days off every month for his heat cycle which didn’t always sit well with his boss. Kenma was silently debating in his head whether or not it really was worth it to cut work tomorrow for some Alpha.

Unfortunately, his curiosity won out in the end. He sighed, and he could already imagine Kuroo grinning. He didn’t even know what the guy looked like, but he came off as the smug type. “Fine. But...”

“But…?”

“Is this a sex thing?” Kenma had to ask. He regretted it immediately.

The voice on the other side burst out laughing. It was almost like a cackle, actually, which did not create a great image for Kenma. Kenma turned red and was glad he wasn’t talking to the guy in real life. A few moments passed until Kuroo settled down. 

“You’re hilarious, Kozume. No, it isn’t. But,”

Now it was his turn. “But what...?”

“There’s a little bit of… pheromones involved. I’ll explain it to you tomorrow. So where should we meet?”

Kenma resisted groaning. Each second of Kuroo talking was tripping off his senses. Thoughts of ‘It’s totally a sex thing,’ versus ‘Akaashi wouldn’t let that happen to me’ were clashing in his head. But he already agreed and it would probably elicit more bothering from Kuroo if he suddenly retracted, so he decided to set the place. 

“Let’s meet tomorrow at the Coffee Tree at the C-8 block. 2PM.”

“Sounds fine by me.”

“Akaashi will be there.” Kenma added. He waited for an answer. He needed Akaashi there to be assured that it was, at the very least, not a sex thing, and to reduce the chances of him being in danger. 

“No problem with that. But take it up with him. I’ll give his phone back to him now so you two can chat. See ya tomorrow, Kozume.” 

And so Kuroo passed the phone back to Akaashi, who reharded Kenma with a quiet sense of urgency. 

“Hey. Sorry about that. Bokuto insisted I give it to him. You know how he gets. How was it? He laughed real loud there for a second.”

Kenma felt relieved to hear it was Akaashi’s voice. “Don’t let him do that again. I was having a heart attack throughout.” He heard Akaashi snort. “We’re meeting up tomorrow at the Coffee Tree somewhere around 2. Can you…”

“Yeah, I will. I’ll just stay at the sides, but I’ll be there.”

“Okay,” Kenma said, followed by a “thanks.” Then he hung up. His chest was pounding. Tomorrow, at 12PM, he was going to meet an Alpha. It only occurred to him now that it would be his first direct encounter with an Alpha in a very long time. The thought of that didn’t help him at all. Suddenly he was sympathetic for his friend Shouyou, whose stomach hurt each time he was nervous. To try and curb this problem, Kenma decided to go play games. It took his mind off of things that made him nervous; something to direct his attention to just so he didn’t have to think of other pressing matters. 

Regardless of the consecutive hunts or other games he played, the meeting tomorrow lingered at the back of his head, as if waiting for an opportunity to grab at him and pull him into the depths of anxiety. He didn’t know what else he could do other than play games and hope that he’d magically forget about it when the time to meet came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kenma finally meets Kuroo at the next chapter! Thanks for reading this chapter guys! Feel free to comment and kudos! 
> 
> Also, sorry I kind of messed up the chapter notes in chapter 1, I'm still learning ao3 works :(


	3. The Contract

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma meets Kuroo and discusses the contract.

Pulling his eyelids open felt like something was wringing his brain dry. He could hear birds chirping noisily outside his balcony, and his neck hurt trying to face that direction. Kenma got up and rubbed his eyes open, accompanied by soft grumbling noises. He felt around his bed for his phone, then grunted in confusion because it wouldn’t unlock. 

Panic coursed through Kenma. He jerked his head up to the wall clock. 

It read 12:33PM.

Meaning that Kenma only had one hour to take a quick shower, get properly dressed, prepare his patches, shots, and mace, charge his phone, and make it to the station on the Line 0 that leaves at 1:30 for the 10-minute ride to block C-8, and get in Coffee Tree in time for the meeting. The reason he had overslept clicked. He had overslept from playing games so much that he entered a mini-coma, and slept through multiple alarms. Because he was distracting himself with games, he forgot to charge his phone which likely died from all the alarms.  
He winced hard. He contemplated skipping today, but knowing Akaashi, he’d probably already be on the way and Kenma didn’t want to inconvenience him. He got out of bed with another groan and shuffled towards the bathroom for a quick shower. 

Today was going to be interesting, and Kenma didn’t like that one bit. 

\---

He barely made it to the station. The doors of the Line 0 closed just as he ducked inside, still grasping at his chest because he felt that it would burst as he ran. Thankfully, a seat was vacant, so he took it, silently cursing at gravity for making running so hard and for making him feel sweaty and gross.

 _‘What a pain,’_ he thought. _‘I hate this, I want to go home.’_

He kept thinking that until it was his stop. The doors of the train hissed open and he got up, dragging his feet along while he kept his head glued to the floor. Kenma glanced around and while nobody was looking, took a quick sniff of his hoodie’s collar. It was sharp and it was minty, but the smell of his pheromones was there. He cursed and hoped the cafe’s scent of coffee would overpower it. He hurried out of the station, his stomach twisting further as he got closer to Coffee Tree. He gripped the straps of his backpack as he approached the store. 

With a deep breath, he opened his phone. It was 1:56PM. He had arrived on time. Akaashi had sent him a text that he would be late because of Bokuto, and Kenma internally cursed because Akaashi was the reason he wanted to get there on time in the first place. With a slow, seething sigh, he decided to text Kuroo. As if on cue, a text from _him_ popped up.

_"Grab yourself a table. I’m almost there."_

So Kenma did. He took a table in one of the far corners of the cafe. He thought about ordering something because Coffee Tree always served his favorite apple pie and it was tempting but Kenma was always wary of people; always worried about every single thing he’d do that might offend them. Perhaps Kuroo would think he was rude for not waiting for him before deciding to order? He could get mad or worse. Alphas could be unpredictable like that.

Damn, he was making himself feel worse thinking about the possibilities. His stomachache was worsening, coupled by the fact he had missed breakfast and couldn’t grab a snack from hurrying. Right now, all there was to ease his tension was his PSP. Kenma took out his frustration by grinding the Nargacuga again, glad to put his mind to work, until his phone rang, effectively startling him into nearly dropping his handheld. 

He scowled and answered the phone. Kenma regret picking up the moment he heard Kuroo’s voice come through. 

_"I see you."_ Kuroo said, then dropped the call immediately. 

And moments later, Kenma saw him. 

The first thing he noticed was how the whole cafe’s mood shifted for a full moment when the tall Alpha entered. People tensed up; some shifted uncomfortably in their chairs, while most others averted their eyes. He felt that urge as well, immediately shoving his head down. Kenma could feel those eyes on him, like he was being locked on with crosshairs. Kenma was aware of every footstep Kuroo took towards him, and just then he regret choosing the corner of all places. He had effectively trapped himself in a literal corner with this Alpha. 

“Hey,” Kuroo spoke.

Kenma jolted. “Mm,” he responded with a nod, not particularly motivated to look up.

“You’re Kozume, right? Kozume Kenma?” 

“Mm,” he nodded again. 

“Well, aren’t you sociable?” Kuroo teased. He took a seat in front of Kenma, filling up his field of view with his broad shoulders. A sense of panic briefly flashed over Kenma. Thankfully, the Alpha relaxed into the seat, adopting a less imposing posture with his arm slung over the backrest. “Kuroo Tetsurou. I’m a Biochemist at Nekomata Pharmaceuticals.” 

Kenma mustered the courage to look up. Kuroo was far more intimidating up close. The Alpha sported this messy and yet somehow coherent hairstyle, like a bed-head at level 15. He had these hazel eyes which stared right back at him with unflinching concentration, like he was being read on the spot. Kenma felt like balling up and shrinking inside his hoodie, and Kuroo knew it, because his shit-eating grin widened just a bit. 

“Anyways,” Kuroo’s expression shifted into something more serious. Kenma shivered. 

Kuroo pulled out a folder from a briefcase he was carrying and put it over the table. He slid it towards Kenma slowly, like he was trying not to startle a wild animal. “Let’s not beat around the bush, Kozume. In here is a legally binding contract. Basically, you’re going to have to act as my ‘partner,’” he made quotations, “and in exchange, you get all the privileges of being my partner. That includes moving into my house, getting money if you want, but…”

Kenma stared at him, waiting for him to continue. 

“Like I said, I’m a biochemist. I make medicine, do research, and whatnot. Do you know what I’m getting at, here?” 

Kenma didn’t like what he was insinuating. He nodded. 

“I can see your face right now. You’re probably thinking, ‘is this a sex thing’?” The smirk returned, coupled by a chuckle, turning the Omega red. Kenma scowled again, trying to clear the redness from his face. 

“Read what’s in the folder there. It’ll be clearer then, Kozume.”

“Kenma. Call me Kenma.” Kenma insisted. He didn’t like the painful formalities, and he hated it even more when it was Kuroo saying his surname. 

“Oho?” Kuroo’s grin widened, and his eyes lit up like he found something interesting. “Alright then, Kenma~” 

Kenma grimaced, earning a chuckle from Kuroo. He tentatively took the folder and opened it. The contract was jarring; about 10 pages full of paragraphs of text using legal and overly formal language he found difficult to read quickly. He kind of wished it was like an RPG instead where he could just hold a button and have the text scroll down really fast so he could skim it. Though, he considered that if he didn’t read it properly, he could fuck himself over signing something that was sketchy or illegal because he couldn’t sit for ten minutes. He hated having to exert so much effort like this. Slowly, he put the folder up between him and Kuroo, just so he could block the Alpha’s face from his line of sight. 

“Take your time, Kenma,” Kuroo said. He was relishing using his name. Kenma grunted in response. 

Out of spite he considered it, but he also didn't want to be in danger for his negligence, so he read it through. It took a few minutes for every page, but as he read, he realized there was something going on here. The terms stated in the contract were far too simple. Far too safe. Far too convenient. Kenma decided to read further. He was concentrating now. 

“Hey, I’m getting a drink. Do you want anything?” Kuroo asked.

“Apple pie,” he mumbled. He caught himself off guard with his answer and tried to stop Kuroo, but the guy already walked away so quickly, Kenma would have to shout. Well, he gets free food from it, so he decided to let it go, too exhausted to argue with himself further. Eventually, Kuroo did return with a drink and a small plate of apple pie. Kuroo placed it near the edge of the folder where Kenma could easily eat from, or grab the plate. Kenma took the plate and put it behind the folder with him. 

“Hey,” he said suddenly. 

“Hmmm?” Kuroo hummed in response while sipping his drink.

“This… This can’t be right. This is too…”

“Convenient?” Kuroo finished for him. 

Kenma nodded. “It is. So we’re going to pretend to be partners,”

“To get folks off my back,” Kuroo answered, putting his cup down. 

“But we’re not going to bond.”

“Nope. Just marking. You get my pheromones, I get some of yours.” The Alpha stated simply. “The marking method’s up to you, though.”

Kenma thought about it again. They weren’t going to bond, meaning Kuroo wouldn’t officially claim him as a partner by biting his neck. Rather, Kuroo was going to mark him instead, which was usually the precursor to bonding, most of the time. It wasn’t as foolproof as a bond which put off most other Alphas, but a strong mark was easily more effective than patches or repellent sprays. There were different marking methods too. He was thinking the safest way of sharing pheromones between them was having to wear each other’s clothing, or sharing a closed space for some time. That way, Kuroo’s scent would stick to him, and his to Kuroo. Still, he remained curious. 

“And the medicine?” He inquired.

Kuroo took a sip from his cup. He was thinking. “Let’s say I’m doing some experiments for the time being. They’re totally optional, and as stated in the contract I won’t force you to take them, but it would be good research material if you did. If not, I can just outsource subjects.”

_'Like what you’re doing right now,'_ Kenma retreated behind the folder again. 

“So I don’t have to drink anything weird… And what is… ‘entitled to consensual activities between partners’?” Damn it. Kenma’s face was turning red again. He knew what it meant the moment the words left his mouth, but he had to be sure. His phone buzzed and it was from Akaashi. The Beta was going to be late, it seemed. 

Even behind the folder, Kenma could feel the smirk all over Kuroo’s face. “Ohohoho, Kenma you know what it means. Though I’ll assure you now. You can use me any time that’s good for us, but I won’t pressure you to be of use to me. Power dynamics, not into it,” he shrugged. “This would be a mutual relationship, and we’ll make whatever we want of it as best as we can. If you want as little contact as possible, fine by me. If you want more than that well, we’ll go. Really though, for the most part, I just need your pheromones.”

“Mmm…” Kenma felt unsatisfied by that answer. “Why do you need people off your back?” He asked, peering up from the folder. 

Kuroo’s smirk vanished. He rubbed the back of his head and glanced away from Kenma. “Well, I’m an Alpha bachelor. People have expectations. You know how it is, and it’s a hassle, right?.” 

Kenma wanted to tell him he didn’t. Like what Kuroo mentioned, the “power dynamics” between them were too different. Oh, he knew what being pressured into a relationship was like, but an Omega’s role and an Alpha’s role were too different. Kuroo had the privilege at least, of arranging something like this. If an Omega decided to walk up to an Alpha and offer some strange “marking” contract out of the blue, that Omega would be laughed at.

“Any other questions?” 

He racked his head for any other queries. “If I sign this, how can I know you won’t…”

Kuroo answered him quickly, like he had expected this. “You can tell Akaashi everything that happens in my house, and he’ll tell Bokuto. Bokuto’s… well, a little bit more higher-up than I am, and he’s a good guy, that one. I’ll probably lose my job and go to jail and stuff,” his smirk was returning, like it was just a funny afterthought to lose everything so quickly. “That’s the only copy of that contract, therefore a strong piece of evidence in court since it’s legally binding, and as stated in page 7, any form of abuse or breach won’t be tolerated. Sign it, and it’s yours for good. Then you’ll have to move in with me.”

It was quiet for a while. Kenma took to rereading parts of the contract to make sure taking bites of apple pie while doing so, and Kuroo didn’t make a sound while waiting for him to finish. After what seemed like an hour of nothing but the occasional flips of a page to fill the silence between the two, he put the folder-wall down and placed the contract inside. 

Kuroo straightened up his posture like he was preparing to pick up his things and leave. “I get why you wouldn’t sign it. Sorry to--”

“Pen,” Kenma said, holding out a hand. 

The Alpha’s face brightened, and Kenma looked away. Kuroo reached into the breast pocket of his blazer and held out a pen for him. Kenma took it, and signed the contract. He showed it to Kuroo for a second before packing up the folder and placing it inside his bag. 

Kuroo extended a hand. “Great. Pleased to meet your acquaintance, Kenma. I’ll be texting you later for details.” 

“Likewise,” Kenma mumbled and extended a hand covered by his hoodie’s sleeve. Kuroo didn’t seem to mind and shook it anyway. And there it was again, that look in Kuroo’s eyes. 

Like he had found something interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've finally met Kuroo! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!! Trying to do my best with how I portray them, especially since I don't have a 'childhood friends' background to rely on :O 
> 
> Thank you guys so much for the comments and kudos, they're very much appreciated!


	4. New Place

Kenma was back at his apartment laying down on the bed. The moment he arrived at home, he practically lunged for his bed. It made a loud noise as his body hit the mattress, earning him a loud curse from his neighbors downstairs. He grunted, wondering if he should go down to apologize, then thought better of it seeing he was moving out soon. Which reminded him he needed to talk to his landlord, and probably to his manager at the game store.

 _'What a pain, I hate this,'_ Kenma glowered at the ceiling. His head was spinning now, recalling what he had just done. An hour ago he met with an Alpha, agreed to sign a contract, had an apple pie, and had to go through the process of explaining it all to Akaashi, who conveniently got there just when Kuroo had left. Akaashi was less surprised about the contract. Instead he was more surprised Kenma even accepted. 

“It was just convenient,” Kenma mumbled, mimicking his answer to the Beta earlier. “really convenient.” 

Yeah, he’ll say that for now. And clearly, the pros far outweigh the cons. He'd get to live in a nice house in the upper-crust B-block from the contract; he'd get protection from other Alphas, and Kuroo wasn't even asking for sex, at least for now. It was an Omega’s dream, actually. To have a nice home, and be out of risk from assault, and to have a partner who respected their boundaries. 

Wait, does that mean that instead of a sugar baby, the contract made him a pheromone… princess? He shuddered at his own thoughts and sat up as his phone buzzed in his hoodie. It was Kuroo, who somehow adopted this uncanny ability to time his texts at the most convenient moments. Kenma pulled out his phone.

Unknown ID: _Thanks for agreeing. I know it was weird, but I think we’ll get along._

Kenma blinked. He wasn’t expecting that. He felt some sort of weight lifted from his chest reading the uncharacteristic text. Kuroo Tetsurou did not give him the best of impressions today, but he didn’t get the impression that Kuroo had something sinister planned, either. 

Unknown ID: _I know Omegas usually live in a block somewhere. You need help moving stuff? Can’t help but feel your twiggy-looking body can’t handle heavy-lifting ^ↀᴥↀ^_

“Ah,” Kenma made a face and put his phone down with a deep exhale of pain. That was the Kuroo he knew. 

\--- 

Kenma spent the remaining days packing up. There wasn’t much, but it annoyed him that Kuroo was right about his twiggy arms being unable to lift a lot. Kuroo repeated his offer but Kenma told him Alphas weren’t allowed in Omega blocks unless it was really important. When there wasn’t much left to pack, he decided to stop and communicate with his landlord to try and break the lease of his apartment. Although the landlord was nice, it was a notoriously slow process because the they were getting old and insisted on talking face to face. Together they fumbled through the legal talk, with Kenma mumbling most of his responses, and the landlord’s ears unable to pick anything up. After a torturous two-hour discussion the landlord _finally_ allowed him to break his lease, followed by a scolding on how “young people these days don’t know how to talk to their elders!” 

After that, he had to call in at work and say he’s quitting. It was a tentative decision to do so until he calculated the stops. His current apartment was at D-12, and the game store was at C-11. Meanwhile, Kuroo’s house was at B-2. From Kuroo’s house to the game store, it would change his daily commute from a doable 8 stops to 12, AND he had to walk an extra block. Just thinking about the numbers made Kenma feel exhausted. He took a few deep breaths to gather himself. 

Then promptly chucked his phone away and decided to play games to get his mind off it. Later, when the guilt of missing work would get to him, he’d finally send a text saying ‘i quit’ then agonize over whether or not his text was too rude or enough. 

Kenma got two things done today, and he was already beyond tired. He lay face down on his bed, surrounded by boxes half-sealed with packing tape and hastily-labeled containers. It only occurred to him then that he only had a day or so left until he’d pack up to Kuroo’s. 

Suddenly, his phone began ringing Akaashi’s tone. Refusing to move from his position, he fished it from the sheets and answered. 

“Mmm?” 

_“Kenma, it’s Kuroo.”_

Kenma gave an irritated grunt in response. Kuroo cackled from the other side. There were some drilling noises somewhere where Kuroo was.. 

“Stop harassing Akaashi for his phone,” Kenma mumbled. Again, Kuroo did his obnoxious laugh. It sounded like 'mughyuhyuhyuhyu,' and Kenma had to hold the phone away from his ear. 

_“I’ll stop when you start answering my texts. Are you packing up?”_

Kenma grunted in reply. 

_“Great. I’m making some minor renovations to the house, so it should be done soon. Ah, I told Bokuto to tell Akaashi that he’d be the one to take you to my house. That good?”_

He was starting to feel unsure if Bokuto was really more higher-up than Kuroo at this point, seeing as the Alpha could just tell Akaashi’s boss to do whatever and it’ll happen. He grunted in reply again. 

_“Not too chatty today, huh? I’ll leave you to it, then. See you in a while then, Kenma~”_ Kuroo hung up. Moments later, it was followed by a text.

Akaashi: _Sorry again. He got my phone. When will you finish? Do you need my help?_

Kenma thought about it. Akaashi’s help would be greatly appreciated. 

Kozume: _Yes  
But what about work?_

Akaashi: _Bokuto said he’d give me the day off then. When should I drop by?_

Kozume: _Ok. Is tomorrow good?_

Akaashi: _Yes, I’ll tell Bokuto right now._

A thought struck Kenma. 

Kozume: _Where are you right now?_

The Beta took longer than usual to respond.

Akaashi: _At Kuroo’s house._

That explained why Kuroo could take Akaashi’s phone so easily. But why were they there? Kenma knew Bokuto wasn’t the most focused boss, but don’t they have jobs to attend to, still? He ignored the thought for now. 

Kozume: _Ok. There’s not much stuff but there’s some heavy things I can’t get._

Akaashi: _That’s fine. I have to get going now, Bokuto is asking for me. Bye._

Kenma didn’t reply after that. He resumed his face-down position for a while. Minutes later, he decided to go over his things once more. It would be a pain if he had to come back for some things. 

The bed creaked as he stood up. He wondered if his bed in Kuroo’s place would creak like this. It was fairly old wood frame and the mattress had gotten a little flattened, but it was comfortable to return to at the end of a long shift at work. He sighed, thinking that it wouldn’t be long until he wouldn’t see this old bed frame anymore. The space it occupied was perfect, too. It was at the corner of the room where the sun from the balcony wouldn’t hit his face in the mornings, but still provide the room with enough light throughout the day so that he wouldn’t have to turn on the lights. 

Kenma stepped out to the balcony. The sun had begun to set, leaving the sky a dying orange, fading into brilliant hues of pink, purple, and blue. A soft breeze blew against Kenma and he sighed again, settling against the concrete wall. By his feet were his three pots of cacti. They were small, but when they bloomed they were bright and beautiful. He didn’t want to put them in a box away from the sun so Kenma decided he’d leave them for last. 

He stayed there for a bit, breathing in and out and letting the air cool his body. Kenma felt relaxed there, staring at the city where the sun turned the buildings and skyscrapers into silhouettes stark against the colorful sky. They towered over him, piercing the sky and he was there, crouched in his tiny apartment’s balcony admiring their dominion. He stayed there until the silhouettes slowly filled up with squares of light and he could see the life of people within them. And when it got darker, and the brightness of the city overpowered the stars, Kenma went back inside. 

\---

As promised, Akaashi arrived at the apartment the next day. Betas were allowed a limited time in, so they didn’t have time to lose. He and Kenma equipped themselves with gloves and began to carry things out into Akaashi’s car. Kenma hated lugging all those boxes but the tedium was made easier with the elevator. It didn’t take as long as they expected because Kenma didn’t have much to pack up in the first place. Mostly clothes, some old game systems, and other miscellaneous objects. Two hours passed when they decided to stop for lunch, and as payment for his labor, Kenma ordered pizza. They sat around the smallest of the boxes, including the open box containing Kenma’s cacti. 

“So,” Akaashi started. Kenma stiffened. Akaashi used that voice when he wanted to talk about things. Usually those ‘things’ were topics Kenma would rather avoid. “You never really said much about this whole thing. Why did you say yes? I didn’t expect that from you.”

Kenma nibbled the edge of his slice. “Well, like I said, it was convenient…” he trailed off, expecting Akaashi to back down. 

“Kenma, are you sure? He didn’t use some pheromones or threaten you, did he?” The Beta’s face looked concerned. 

He shook his head. “No, it was civil. Really, it was. I think, I didn’t… I didn’t even sense anything from him, you know?” Now that Kenma thought about it, he didn’t pick up any sort of ‘emotion’ from Kuroo’s presence. Alphas were dominant and could easily influence others with their pheromones, be it to feel anger, calmness, or to instill their dominance. Yet, despite Kuroo’s teasing demeanor, he never sensed _anything._ In fact, he didn’t even smell Kuroo’s pheromones at all, and it was unlikely he would forget, because the meeting was one of the more significant things to happen to him in a while. 

Akaashi shared his sentiments, and they both took a second to think. “I’m not an expert on pheromones because I’m a Beta, but even I can pick up Bokuto’s, if he’s feeling down or annoyed. That’s weird. Kuroo seems dominant, too…” He stopped trailing off and realized what he said. “Ah, sorry,” 

Kenma shook his head. “It’s fine. If I’m in danger, you’ll pick up, right?” Akaashi nodded. Kenma hid his smile behind the slice of pizza. “Let’s finish up, then.” 

“Let’s.”

They ate the remaining bits of pizza and hauled off the boxes downstairs. After packing the boxes in, Kenma told Akaashi to wait for a bit, because he had to return the keys to the landlord. Akaashi nodded, and Kenma went off. 

He actually lied. Kenma went straight to his now ex-apartment. It looked just like when he had moved there years ago. Standing at the doorway, he could see all the tiny details of the place that was home. The circles his cacti pots left on the balcony. The dust gathered at the corners of the room where his vacuum couldn’t reach. The wall paint chipping in places from age. The black stain surrounding the electric socket. His now-empty bed.

Kenma exhaled shakily. His body went through the motions like he was just leaving for work: shutting the door gently, twisting the key in until it was locked, and jiggling the doorknob to be sure it was closed. 

He returned to Akaashi 10 minutes later, apologizing for taking so much time. The keys had been returned to the landlord, and all that’s left was to go. The car was already started, so Kenma strapped himself in at the front seat. 

“You okay?” Akaashi asked, pulling out of the driveway. Kenma nodded. He didn’t say anything else, but Kenma found his silence oddly reassuring. He leaned back and let the scenery pass into better blocks. 

Unwittingly, Kenma fell asleep during the ride. He was woken up by Akaashi who gave him gentle pats on the shoulder until he blinked awake. 

“Kenma? We’re here.” Akaashi said. 

Kenma rubbed his eyes and looked around. They were in a completely different part of the world, he thought at first. He stepped outside of the vehicle and took in the scenery. Surrounding him were tall and sleek modern houses with well-manicured front lawns. The wide streets were lined with tall trees, but despite the that, they were free of leaves and litter. It was so unlike anything Kenma thought he’d ever be in, that he immediately tensed up, as if he was expecting some sort of grave encounter. 

“Oi!” Kuroo’s voice called out. He emerged from the front door to his house. The house wasn’t as wide as the other houses, but it was three stories tall of slate gray and wood finishes. Somehow it matched Kuroo a lot, especially as he stood by the porch, looking tall and lanky as Kenma saw him nearly a week ago. He wanted to hide behind Akaashi, who bowed at the greeting. Kenma bowed as well, avoiding eye contact once more.

“Glad you guys made it. Should we start unpacking, then?” The Alpha began to approach them. He was dressed more casually than the cafe, but he was still presentable with a white polo shirt and a pair of black slacks with boater shoes. Kenma on the other hand was wearing yet another hoodie and some ragged jeans. 

Kenma’s head remained bowed even as he nodded. He felt as if there was a thick border separating him and Kuroo, and it would be very, very difficult to break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Kenma is moving in with Kuroo! And it looks like Kuroo's got something up with him, huh?
> 
> Anyways, thank you guys for all the comments and kudos as usual, they really help me gauge how well I'm doing!! 
> 
> Bit of a note:  
> In case you've checked, yes, I have changed up some of the tags. I've removed the Tsuki/Hina tag because I don't think I can handle juggling 3 ships in one story, but that doesn't mean Hinata and Tsukishima won't show up!! I've also added more pertaining to the things the story will contain. 
> 
> Yes, we are in for a world of hurt!
> 
> :)


	5. "Kuro"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma gets a tour of the house, and Kuroo lets something slip.

Moving Kenma’s things inside was made significantly easier with Kuroo. He was taller than the two of them, and stronger. While Kenma could manage the lighter loads, Akaashi heavier ones, Kuroo was darting in and out of the house dropping off the heavier boxes at the foyer without breaking a sweat. Kenma got distracted watching him, he was like a worker ant carrying crumbs back to the nest with so much devotion. 

“Kenma,” Akaashi tapped him on the shoulder, “I have to get back to work. Bokuto is…” He trailed off, looking disgruntled at the thought of going back to his boss. Kenma understood and nodded. “Text me, okay?” 

“Okay,” Kenma mumbled. 

“I mean it, Kenma. I’ll check in at around 8, is that fine?”

“S’fine,” the blonde mumbled, looking away from Akaashi when Kuroo entered, a large box labeled ‘clothes’ in his arms. 

Akaashi pat his shoulder, a reassuring gesture from him. “Kuroo, I will be taking me leave now.” He stated. 

“Oho? Bo giving you trouble? ‘Kay~ Tell him I said hi,” he put down the box and slicked back his hair. Almost immediately the fringe above his eye back. “I think I’ll take it from here, then. You good, Kenma?”

Kenma shifted uncomfortably. Once Kuroo’s attention was on him, he felt like shrivelling up and flying away. He nodded. Akaashi bowed to Kuroo and took his leave. Minutes later, they heard his car pull out of the driveway. Kenma began to attend to his things by the doorway as an excuse not to talk to Kuroo. 

“Oi, oi, Kenma,” 

He cursed internally and turned around to face the Alpha. Kuroo was staring, and Kenma felt like a specimen, trapped between the glass frames of formalities and subject to the biochemist’s scrutiny. Kuroo closed the distance between them and clapped both his hands to Kenma’s shoulders, jolting him. 

“Relax, will you? I’m not gonna bite.” Kuroo grinned, which didn’t do much to convince Kenma. He turned his head away and made a face. His body was as rigid as stone in Kuroo’s hands, and he was relieved when Kuroo finally let him go, a look or worry on the Alpha’s face for a brief moment. “Alright well, for starters, how about you call me by a name? Tell me what you want to call me.”

Kenma faced him again, albeit focusing his gaze on the gap between Kuroo’s eyes. “Then,” he mumbled softly, then, hating how soft his voice was, raised the volume just a bit, _“Kuro.”_

“Kuro?” Kuroo repeated. 

Kenma wanted to take back what he said. Kuroo’s blank face felt like he made some sort of mistake until he broke into a chuckle. 

“Pfft, that’s… That’s so _you,_ calling me just ‘Kuro’ of all things, heh. ‘Kay, so, I’ll call you Kenma.” 

Then, Kuroo pointed at himself. “You’ll call me what?”

“K...Kuro,” the blonde answered. 

Kuroo praised him and pointed at the Omega. “Kenma,” he said, then pointed back to himself.

“Kuro,” Kenma repeated, with less hesitation. Kuroo pointed again to the blonde, saying Kenma’s name. This back and forth name-calling repeated itself for a full minute, two strangers confirming and instilling their second agreement with each other. Kenma had to admit it did clear some of the tension in him, and by the fourth time it didn’t feel awkward to call him ‘Kuro’ anymore.

Kuroo clapped his hands together. “Okay, we’ve got the names down. You learn fast, huh?” He grinned cheekily. “Move your things, or tour?” 

Kenma glanced around. There were far too many boxes to carry, and even thinking about it made him just a tiny bit tired. “Tour,” he said. Kuroo nodded. He took the lead, and gestured at the area around them. Kenma was so focused on his stuff he didn’t notice.

“This is the foyer,” Kuroo said. It was done in a minimalist fashion, a modern take on the Japanese aesthetics with the steps for removing shoes, a wooden shoe cabinet to the side, and above that, an simple flower arrangement of white orchids. It was really clean,and Kenma felt bad the boxes and containers were ruining the aesthetic of it all. Kuroo pressed on, leaving his shoes by the steps, and Kenma did the same. 

They went through the first floor. Kenma thought the house was larger than it had any right to be, and he was like a bug-- a foreign thing. Something that shouldn’t, or didn’t deserve to be there. The living room, especially, made him all sorts of nervous. It was probably twice as large as the space he had at the apartment, with an open ceiling which allowed him to see the areas around the second floor. It was well lit and perfect for relaxing, seeing as it had this large L-shaped couches all done in leather upholstery facing a massive TV with a surround sound system. Kenma thought it was absolutely ridiculous, until he thought about playing games there, in which he begrudgingly accepted it. The living room led to the dining area, which Kenma likened to a banquet hall because of how long the table was. On the table was a box, which Kenma immediately recognize. Kuroo saw that it got his attention, as well. 

As Kenma was staring, Kuroo told him, “go ahead. Just a little bit of a housewarming gift, heh.” 

Kenma timidly approached the box. He knew the box of Coffee Tree well, and let his fingers work around the ribbon, untying it. He felt Kuroo’s eyes on his back which he tried to ignore. Putting the ribbon aside, he lifted the box, revealing a whole apple pie. The aroma hit his nostrils immediately, and he inhaled it in briefly, savoring the cinnamon and apple. Kenma put the cover back on and returned to Kuroo’s side. 

“Glad you liked it. Well, it’s the only thing I know you’d eat, so let’s keep going,” he said.

Kenma nodded. “Thanks...” he said. “Kuro.” he added, as soft as a whisper. 

They continued touring the rest of the house. The second floor was where his room was. It was the first time in a long while that Kenma had a room in a space that wasn’t sharing the kitchen or dining table. He had his own bathroom too, as Kuroo pointed out. His room was clean and big, already outfitted with a dresser, desk, and the bed twice as wide as the one he used back at D-12. And the mattress. God,that mattress was soft and yet sprung back against his pressed palm. He could already imagine living all of his life on that mattress, and he couldn’t wait to get in there to stretch and curl up with a pillow and his handheld buried under the thick comforter playing games until he couldn’t tell where the he began and the bed ended. 

Unfortunately, there was the rest of the house to attend to. 

Across his room was Kuroo’s. They didn’t go inside, but only because Kenma made a face of discomfort when Kuroo pointed at it. Right next to it was Kuroo’s study which he remarked as ‘full of boring chemistry research, which Kenma actually wanted to look at, but he kept his silence, just occasionally nodding or humming when Kuroo says things.

The last room they went to was the entertainment room, or so Kuroo called it. Until now, it never occurred to Kenma that people sometimes kept more than one TV set in their house. The entertainment room had an even larger TV, more stereos, and shelves lined with DVDs, game cases, and systems like the Xbox and the PS4. Kenma was awestruck, and overwhelmed that he couldn’t even bring himself to speak. It left him wide open for Kuroo to read his face and start grinning like an idiot. 

“Oho, looks like Kenma here likes the entertainment room~ Well, it’s all yours to use of course. Just don’t break anything, but I’m sure you’re not the type to go smashing things when he’s angry, unlike a certain someone,” he snorted, and Kenma knew he was talking about Bokuto somehow. “But,” Kuroo ushered him out of the glorious room. “You can save your gaming for tomorrow. We’ve got things to talk about, Kenma.” His tone shifted to something more serious. Kenma gulped and nodded. “Great, let’s go down.”

“But Kuro,” Kenma spoke suddenly. He pointed to the stairs leading up to the third floor.  
Kuroo looked pensive for a brief flicker of a moment. Kenma nearly missed it. The Alpha rubbed the back of his head, already heading back to the stairs leading down. “It’s just the personal gym and the roofdeck. Nothing special, so you can check it out tomorrow. ‘Sides, the sun already set so you can’t see the view,”

Kenma stared at him. He wondered if sometimes, Kuroo was leaving a trail of information he should follow immediately, like breadcrumbs in the forest, or they’d disappear forever, and the topic would never come up again. Kenma followed after him. They returned to the living room, sitting away from each other on the couch. Kuroo reclined against the cushions, as relaxed as ever, his legs stretched. 

They were really long, thought Kenma. He should stop staring, so he turned his attention to the edges of his sleeves, fumbling with them as an excuse not to look at anything of Kuroo’s. 

“Well, that’s most of the house! What’d you think?” Kuroo asked him. 

“It’s alright,” Kenma said. 

“It’s cool, isn’t it?” He said with a grin. 

“I guess…” 

It was silent after that. Kenma wondered if he should go and try and return the contract because the familiarity of earlier with the name-exchanging had dissipated because he didn’t know how to carry a conversation. 

“Let’s get to business, then.” Kuroo sat up straight. “So back at the cafe, we didn’t really discuss much because the contract was there to explain most of it. So I’ll get right to it. What’s the marking method? There’s a bunch like surface-marking, proximity-marking, or _that_ method.” 

That got Kenma thinking. Kuroo was right, they really didn’t discuss it much which was a huge oversight on his part. He looked up and gave it some thought, his eyebrows scrunched together the same way when he was strategizing in Fire Emblem. Surface-marking was the weakest, and is comparable to having a fake ID. Omegas would take clothing from Alphas then carry or wear them to take some pheromones in. It was only on the surface level though, which means upon closer inspection, another Alpha could easily figure out it wasn’t real. Proximity-marking involved actual contact this time, typically the precursor of serious relationship stages where there was a lot of cuddling involved, and the pheromones could mingle and strengthen the longer and more often they spent time within close proximity of each other. That method Kuroo was talking about was the proof of seriousness in a relationship and something he wasn’t very keen on doing right now with a near-stranger, namely sex. There was always a risk of accidentally bonding with the person in a bout of passion, and Kenma didn’t want to risk that. 

“I think…” He trailed off, weighing out his two options. Kuroo was waiting, his eyes focused on Kenma, listening to his words. 

“Uh,” Kenma averted his eyes again, coughing into his sleeve. Those hazel eyes of Kuroo’s were a dangerous thing he’d want to avoid. “Start slow. Clothes.” 

Kuroo hummed and nodded, rubbing his chin like he remembered something. “‘Kay~”

Kenma spoke, “Wait, Kuro,” he kept quiet for a moment, thinking how best to phrase his question. “You don’t… Smell.” 

Kuroo feigned looking hurt and offended, with a hand over his chest and all.  
“Why, Kenma! I’m a man of class! I may look like a slob, but I do take care of myself, y’know?” 

The Omega frowned. “I mean your pheromones.”

It wiped the expression off Kuroo’s face. He began brushing his hand through his hair like he was fixing it. “Eh, it’s a weird situation. Let’s just say god made me special that way~” 

Kenma absolutely did not believe that. “God abandoned you when he started making your hair,” he grunted, then immediately regretted saying that, thinking it was an extremely rude thing to say to Kuroo who he’d only met for a few hours total. Kuroo blinked at him and to his surprise, burst into loud, raucous laughter while clutching his stomach. It took a few moments for him to settle.

“Holy shit Kenma, you’re a riot!” The Alpha reached over and playfully nudged his shoulder. “That was good, that was good, I’ll tell Bo that, heh.” He was smiling and pulled out his phone, then glanced at the time. “Oops, it’s nearing 7. Why don’t you start moving in some of your important things, and I’ll get to making dinner.” He rose from the couch and began heading for the kitchen. 

Kenma nodded, and began to head for his boxes. He was not the least bit satisfied with the answers Kuroo gave him. What kind of ‘weird situation’ did he mean? When he said ‘special’ was it genes? The question was still nagging at the back of his head, and would continue throughout the night. Honestly, there was no need for all this inquisition. Really, he could have just accepted it the way it was.

He hated how he could make himself curious like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Kenma and Kuroo are finally settled in, and can finally interact :D This was fun to write because I was thinking how Kuroo would get past Kenma's 'wall in the heart' to try and get him to come out of his shell and relax. As usual, thank you so much for the feedback! If anything is bugging you, or you'd like something to be fixed, don't hesitate to comment it out! This time, I'll try my best to reply, since I was a bit shy before haha //sweats
> 
> Also, in case you want to talk to me more about Kuroken, Haikyuu, or anything, I have a twitter/tumblr with the same username (Danmujiji) and if you DM me I'll follow you back so we can communicate!


	6. Intermission: Akaashi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter follows Akaashi after he left Kenma in Kuroo's care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Here's the first intermission chapter featuring Akaashi! I'm thinking of doing these every 5 chapters just so we can have some BokuAka action, as promised! Although they're BokuAka, I still think you shouldn't skip them because they do help to add more exposition/context for the main Kuroken story as well as to explore the Alpha/Beta dynamics! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

The answering machine on his table was beeping. Akaashi's eyebrow twitched in response. His body tensed as if expecting some sort of impact to hit him then and there. It unclenched itself after a second, then he picked up the handset. 

"Akaashi!" His boss' voice rang. Bokuto somehow managed to roll his A’s like he was growling every vowel of Akaashi’s name. 

"Yes, Mr. Bokuto?" He answered, trying to prevent the exhaustion from reaching his voice. 

"My office, now!" 

"Yes, Mr. Bokuto." He stood up and walked to the large doors and pushed one open. Bokuto was standing in front of his desk, practically glowing with his chest puffed out with pride at the pile of paperwork on his desk. Bokuto's eyes were wide, obviously expecting some form of praise from his assistant. 

"Well done, Mr. Bokuto," he said automatically, which was enough most of the time. In this case, it was, because Bokuto adopted a bashful expression and started rubbing the back of his head and waving his hand.

"Aww, it was nothing, Akaashi! Hehehe..." Bokuto always looks so happy hearing words of praise like that, so Akaashi would keep paying him compliments. It kept him motivated, which meant that Bokuto would whine less and work more. The Beta approached the table and began sifting through the pile of documents, affirming each complete one with a nod. Behind him, Bokuto kept trying to peek at his progress like a child attempting to see a present their parent was readying. 

The Beta stacked the papers upright nearly, then broke the news to his own boss. "Congratulations, it's all complete Mr. Bokut..." Before Akaashi could finish his sentence, his boss cheered loudly, pumping his fists in the air like he won a volleyball match. 

“Yes! Done with work for today! Akaashiii, let’s go out and driiiink~” Bokuto suddenly slung an arm around his shoulders, the Alpha only slightly taller than him yet with such a heavy grip, 

Akaashi found that he couldn’t escape, and had no choice but to agree. He sighed and nodded. “Yes, Mr. Bokuto,”

“Awww, Akaashi, you should cheer up more! After all, you get to hang out with me~” Bokuto was in constant motion as he spoke, rocking his assistant with him. He could barely keep himself upright and felt a headache coming on. 

“Y-yes... “ 

“Whoo!” The Alpha cheered, pumping his fists again, subsequently letting Akaashi free from his grip. Akaashi rubbed his neck, staring at the overly-active Bokuto. He let it slide, after all, he was the boss, and not a terrible boss. Just one that needed a lot of coaxing to have anything done. 

Suddenly, Bokuto halted in his celebrations. He pulled out his phone. “Ah, that’s right! Kuroo texted me about the ‘developments’ with his little experiment!” 

“Mr. Bokuto, please don’t call my friend an ‘experiment’,” Akaashi mumbled to himself. Bokuto heard it. 

“Ohoo! Well it looks like I’m gonna have to apologize in person to him then! Akaashi, let’s _not_ drink and visit Kuroo instead!” Bokuto exclaimed loudly. Akaashi sighed. He didn’t think it was a good time, particularly because his friend Kenma was very much cat-like in nature. He knew a few fact about cats: when moving them, it’s best to leave them in a room to get them acquainted with the new scents of the area before letting them off to explore by themselves. Being creatures of habit, introducing new things one after the other would undoubtedly stress the poor thing out. He had a fun time imagining Kenma all holed up in his room until he remembered it was in the room of an Alpha. That reminded him to text Kenma at 8, in which it was 6:42 PM. 

“Mr. Bokuto,” Akaashi started, “how about we go for a drink instead?” He grimaced internally. Workplace etiquette dictated that as much as possible, never go against your boss’ suggestions. Bosses tended to be Alphas, and Alphas didn’t like being questioned or dissuaded, especially by those of lower rank. “I mean...”

But Bokuto had put a hand up and was shaking his head with a grin on his face. “I get it, Akaashi! You want to take out _all_ of us for drinks! It’s perfect! Kuroo and I can hang out, while I can meet the new guy, Kin… Kochu....” Bokuto’s brows furrowed in deep thought, and he stopped like he was a toy that stopped winding. He rubbed his chin, deep in thought. “Akaashi...” He muttered, sneaking glances at his assistant for help. 

“Kozume Kenma, sir.” 

“Kozume Kenma!” It practically revitalized him, and Akaashi could only wonder where his sporadic energy comes from. “I can meet him, and have drinks with you! How about it? I’ll text Kuroo right now~” He pulled out his phone and began typing, but not before Akaashi caught his arm, a desperate look over his face. Bokuto stopped. 

“The two of us, Mr. Bokuto,” The Beta spoke slowly, carefully deciding his words. “I meant _only_ the two of us should be drinking. Tonight.” Akaashi was tense. That was the _second_ time he dissuaded against his boss’ plans. To his surprise, Bokuto brightened up like he was electrified. 

“A-kaa-shiiii!” His voice boomed throughout the office. Akaashi was certain the employees outside heard. But he wasn’t worried. Right now, Bokuto was exuding powerful waves of happy pheromones. It was a scent that smelled like he was stuck deep inside a forest. “Yes! Yes!!! It’s a date then~!” Bokuto exclaimed. “I’m gonna go fix up, right now!” 

Akaashi exhaled with relief. Bokuto didn’t hear it, because he was busy checking himself out at the large windowpane overlooking the city. Only then did Akaashi realize just how unkempt Bokuto was right now. He sighed once more, gently turning Bokuto back to face him. “Mr. Bokuto, you have to watch out more for your appearance,” he muttered while straightening out his boss’ tie which had become messy while he was thrashing about earlier. Bokuto was suddenly still. He was uncharacteristically obedient when it came to Akaashi (most of the time) which made his job secure at the very least. 

It was times like these where Akaashi felt more like a very well-paid babysitter instead of an assistant. 

Well, he had to admit that Bokuto was entertaining, which kept the dreariness away from his work. He smiled to himself while pulling up up the knot of the tie.

“But you’d run out of a job, then! My messy suits keep you fed! And,” Bokuto snaked an arm around his waist, his hand resting on the small of Akaashi’s back, “it seems like you need to eat a lot more~” 

Akaashi blinked. He tugged on the tie very tightly, nearly choking Bokuto, who yipped at the sudden pressure around his neck. “If that is your suggestion, then I expect you to pay for dinner.” He paused, and coughed politely. “Well, if that would be all, I shall be taking my leave now, Mr. Bokuto.” He stepped back from the bewildered-looking, open-mouthed Alpha and bowed. 

Akaashi left the office slightly faster than usual. He sat back down on his chair, trying not to think about what he just did. His attempts failed, and he ended up leaning over his desk shaking, covering his face with his hands. His heart was beating like it was trying to escape from his chest, and the heat from his face gradually began to spread to his whole body. 

His coworker, a Beta named Konoha Akinori walked by his desk. “Yo, Akaashi. Bokuto giving you trouble again? I get it,” he said with a chuckle. Akaashi could only nod, and Konoha went away after dropping off a couple more files for Bokuto to sign.

Akaashi began massaging his temples. First he had to help Kenma move, then he had to race back to the office because his boss wasn’t doing any work, and now he had to go out for drinks with said boss after uttering those cheesy lines. 

He was stressed beyond relief. Then he had to check up on Kenma, too. He felt a knot of tension build up in his temples, the sign of a strong headache coming along. 

Bokuto had better pick a good pub tonight.

\--

Suffice to say, Bokuto delivered. Despite being an Alpha from an upper-class family, Bokuto had good eyes for excellent and hard-to-find pubs. Tonight he found an izakaya-style restaurant which also doubled as a pub at night and they found themselves a dining area closed off from the outside by a paper screen door. They sat across each other, separated by a banquet of food and a few bottles of alcohol. Bokuto was already digging in, his cheeks like a squirrel’s as he practically inhaled all the meat surrounding him. Akaashi was a much slower eater, choosing to savor his favorite dish, boiled rapeseeds with karashi mustard dressing. Bokuto was pointing at him with his chopsticks, talking with his mouth full of rice and meat. It was sloppy, and very _Bokuto._ Finally, he swallowed hard, beating at his throat for a few seconds before downing a tall glass of beer to get it all down. 

“Akaashiii!” He slurred, combing a hand through his spiked-up hair. 

“Yes, Mr. Bokuto?” Akaashi answered after swallowing. 

“Say, do you…”

Before the Alpha could finish, Akaashi’s phone beeped. He had set an alarm for 8PM to call Kenma. He told Bokuto that he had to attend to something urgently, and that he’d only be gone for a few minutes. Akaashi left before he could catch Bokuto whining, and carefully slipped out of the establishment to escape the noise. He quickly dialed Kenma, tapping his foot impatiently waiting for his friend to pick up. After ten seconds, it got through, and Akaashi exhaled with relief.

“Kenma,” he said. “How are you?”  
“I’m okay, Akaashi.” 

He sounded alright, for sure. “Where are you right now?”

_“I’m in my room. We just had dinner. And we talked.”_

“About?” He asked.

_“Boundaries. Marking methods, and stuff. And his schedule, because he says he still has work for a week.” Kenma mumbled._

“A week?” That piqued Akaashi’s interest. As far as he knew (from Bokuto) Kuroo wasn’t supposed to be working, not until the next two months. 

_“Mmm.”_

Akaashi thought for a moment. “Well, what was the marking method you picked?”

 _“Surface for now. We just have to exchange clothes every few days to get used to it.”_ The Omega sounded a bit worried for a second. Akaashi could understand. Kenma wasn’t exactly the most sexually active person as far as he knew. In fact he wondered if Kenma even considered such things. He should be considering them now though, given the current situation. 

“Did he start smelling?” Akaashi asked. 

_“No, he was still scentless. It was weird. He said I’ll get the pheromones, but I can’t imagine how.”_

“Hm,” Akaashi felt suspicious. But Bokuto trusted his friend. Again, Akaashi had to choose his next question wisely. He had a feeling creeping up his back that Bokuto might cause some trouble while half-drunk and unsupervised inside the izakaya. “Kenma, this might be a rude question, but when is your next… _‘thing?’_ ” 

_“Thing...? Ah,”_ Kenma paused from the other end. Then, the silence was filled with a lot of ruffling noises, like the Omega was searching around for something important. He picked up again after a while. _“After 2 weeks. Probably. I have my pills, patches, and I still have some shots.”_

Akaashi sighed with relief once more, but he could sense the nervous edge in Kenma’s voice. He was a Beta, and completely unprepared for situations like this, and he hated feeling like he couldn’t help somehow. All he had to offer was his word. “If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call or text, Kenma.” He said. 

_“Mmm.” hummed Kenma. “Thank you. It means a lot.”_

Akaashi let a small smile creep up his face. “No problem. I have to get back now.”

_“Bokuto?”_

“Bokuto indeed. Something happened earlier, and I’ll tell you all about it sometime.” He then hung up and turned back inside. Just as he predicted, Bokuto was about to get into something silly he’d no doubt have to apologize for. His boss’ head was peeking out from the sliding doors, eyes as wide as an owl’s, neck craned and turning slowly from side to side as if searching for something, or someone. He was definitely creeping people out, especially the Betas who just wanted to have a nice break without some weirdo Alpha staring at them. 

At the sight of him, Bokuto stuck out his arm and began to wave. Akaashi began to apologize for his boss’ behavior, then quickly ushered him back inside their dining area. 

“Akrrshiii!” He was waving his arms as his assistant carried him back inside. “Where d’you goooo?” 

“I just had to make a call, Mr. Bokuto,” he answered calmly. When Bokuto was drunk, it was very important to keep a level voice. Any rise in volume would be returned twice, or even thricefold. “How was your food?” 

“The yummiest, but suuuuper lame! You didn’t eat with me!” He whined. 

The Beta glanced at his watch. It was 8:09PM and they had only been here for an hour, yet Bokuto was approaching dangerous level of drunkenness. “I did eat with you, Mr. Bokuto. I ate with you for the first hour of us being here.” He waited for Bokuto’s expression to change. It turned into a silly grin. 

 

Then, Bokuto broke into laughter, and Akaashi smelled the forest. “That’s right, you diiiiid! We’re on a daaaate!” He gave the Beta a half-lidded stare that lasted for a long while. At the same time, he smelled the forest as if it was about to rain. A crisp and unmistakable scent. 

Akaashi coughed. “Well, it appears as if we are finished here, Mr. Bokuto. Shall I take you home?” Bokuto perked up at that. He began searching his pockets and with fumbling fingers managed to pull out his card. Akaashi called a waiter to ready their bill, and within 15 minutes, they were on the way to Bokuto’s penthouse at the Fukuro Towers. 

Like most Alphas, this type of living situation wasn’t out of the blue. The Fukuro Towers was, in particular, a popular place to live in, given its fabulous location near the A blocks. Akaashi gently ushered the drunk Bokuto from the backseat of his car and carried him to the elevators. It was a long ride to the 95th floor, but Bokuto was only swaying slightly, and only occasionally babbled nonsense, which Akaashi was grateful for. 

At the doorway, Akaashi was greeted by two guards who knew him well because of the amount of times this scenario was repeated. They let him in, and Akaashi half-dragged Bokuto to his bedroom. When he lay the Alpha down, Bokuto’s eyes were open. 

Akaashi felt annoyed. “Mr. Bokuto, if you were awake, you could have helped yourself upstairs.”

He was grinning like a child and began flapping his arms, making a sheet-angel all over the bed. “Hey, hey, hey, Akaashi~ That’s not a nice way to talk to your booooss~” 

“I suppose not,” he said. 

“But I forgive you, because I’m so nice!” 

 

“The nicest, sir. Since you are so nice, may I ask a question?”

Bokuto lit up at his praise. “Ask away, my leech~”

 _It’s my ‘liege’,_ though Akaashi held his tongue at that. “Didn’t you say that Mr. Kuroo was taking a leave from work?”

Bokuto scrunched his face and turned up his nose like a child presented with a meal they disliked. “Hmph! Kuroo is like, the world’s worst workaholic! The worst-aholic! Mmm gunna… Hafta force ‘im… t’stay home…” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes and blinking hard. 

Akaashi nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Bokuto. Shall I fetch you a blanket?” He offered. Though he knew it was useless. Bokuto always requested one thing when he was like this. 

“Noooo… _Stay here with me instead…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you guys so much for all the kudos and comments! I'm fueled by it!!! Similarly, if you find I'm lacking in something (characterization, pacing, etc) please do comment because I love getting criticism to improve! It'll help us both in the long run after all! If you want to follow me on other platforms, I have a tumblr/twitter with the same username, @danmujiji! Follow for fic-related tweets and chat me up as well! DM me if you're from AO3 and I'll follow back!
> 
> sidenote: the exchange of "Bokuto?" // "Bokuto." between Kenma and Akaashi made me think of "The Fault in Our Owls" kjhkjhdfj


	7. Apron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma gets anxiety, and later, a shirt.

Shortly after he and Kuroo had the discussion, they ate dinner together. It was quiet, and the awkwardness gnawed at Kenma, discouraging his appetite. He ate little, but at the very least he finished the apple pie Kuroo had brought. Kuroo didn’t pressure him to talk throughout the meal, but the omega felt as if he had to say something. After all, they would be live-in partners for the next few months, and they should get along at least. Kenma found it difficult to even think of something to say, let alone find the guts to say it. Kuroo sat across from him and was chewing away at some fish and rice while typing something on his phone. 

“Um…” Kenma mumbled. Kuroo stopped typing, and glanced at him. 

“Hmm?”

“I-I’m…” Kenma kept his head low, but his eyes were darting all over the place. His chest hurt and he held onto the sides of his plate. “...Done eating.”

“Oh, yeah, go ahead and put it in the sink. I’ll load it up the dishwasher later.” Kuroo replied, gesturing at the sink. 

Kenma nodded and hobbled off, gently laying his plate down so he wouldn’t disturb Kuroo. He felt like a mouse scurrying off as quietly as possible while trying not to disturb a sleeping cat. He didn’t know what else to do or say, so he awkwardly bowed at Kuroo who gave him a confused expression, then shuffled out. His heart was beating so fast he felt lightheaded. 

Various thoughts raced through this head. _’This is a mistake, this is nothing but a big fucking mistake! What the hell was I thinking?!’_ He tried calming himself down by unpacking, while trying to rationalize his own impulsive choices.

 _’Kuro is rich. Life will be easy. I don’t have to do anything at all for it. I just have to play nice and play pretend-boyfriend. Kuro doesn’t seem like a bad person at all. A little smug, but it’s not the worst alpha personality trait in the world. Definitely not.’_

It was a struggle not to run out of the house right then and there. Kenma took deep, shaky breaths, and went for one of the larger boxes containing his clothes. As he began taking out some clothes to load into his room, Kuroo stepped out of the dining area and went over. Kenma’s heart began to beat wildly again, and he gulped. 

“Let me help you with that, Kenma,” he said, easily lifting the box from the floor. Kenma was there, open-mouthed for a second, before picking up some of the clothing he had taken out with a polite nod. 

“T-thanks,” he said. Kenma slung a duffel bag over his shoulder. It had his PSP, chargers, and toiletries inside. 

“Don’t mention it~ You’re a guest here, and I’m the best host in the world~” The alpha said with a grin. 

Kenma snorted to himself, and followed Kuroo as they went up to his room. It’s not as if Kuroo was a terrible host. Quite the opposite, actually, and Kenma found his confidence agreeable, and at times endearing. 

He stopped for a second. 

_’Endearing?’_

He shook his head. It was too soon to be passing judgement on Kuroo’s character. Who knew what he’d turn out to be tomorrow? A week from now? Oh, he just loved to ruin things for himself by overthinking, and being too paranoid. 

They arrived at his room. Kuroo placed the box on the floor. “Oh, right. I forgot to give you this.” He fished a pair of keys from his back pocket. He handed them to Kenma and gestured behind the bedroom door. 

“I had this lock installed. See, this used to be a guest room but it’s all yours until you wanna leave. Those are the only copies of the keys. It’s uh, for _emergencies,_ ” he muttered, scratching his neck. 

Kenma took a look at the lock. It was a large plate of metal with keyholes and other knobs attached to the solid wood. If Kuroo was bluffing now, Kenma had no clue how he would possibly get past a lock he had installed. All he had to do was take the alpha’s word for it. He nodded and accepted the keys, pocketing them. He nodded in thanks. 

Kuroo looked satisfied. “Test it out yourself later on if you like. Any other boxes to bring out?” 

Kenma shook his head. The box of clothes were the heaviest box he needed up, and the rest could wait tomorrow. 

“Great. I’ll be in my room then, just go knock if ya need me. Oh, and,” he paused for a second. “The shirt. Later. Okay?”

“Okay,” Kenma said. He had to go change too, so he could give Kuroo one of his shirts. With that, Kuroo excused himself and left Kenma alone in his room. The blonde began to unpack his clothes. He did it slowly, because he was getting lazy and sluggish now that Kuroo was gone and he didn’t have to feign energy. The move and all the interaction he had really took its toll on him, so he did what he always did after a day of tiredness. 

He flopped onto his new bed. 

By god, it was the _softest_ thing in the world. It was twice as large as his bed back from D-12, and a quadrillion times better. The white comforters were like a cloud that engulfed his body and wrapped around him gently, while the mattress was soft and molding to his body. If he had somehow died and this was heaven, he was willing to accept it. Kenma moved his body around to get the full bed experience. All of his anxieties about moving in with a total stranger _nearly_ disappeared all because of that bed. He didn’t want to leave, but then, his phone began to ring. It took him a while to decide if it was Akaashi or not, then reminded himself that it wasn’t Kuroo because this time, Akaashi was nowhere near them.

 _”Kenma, how are you?”_ Akaashi’s voice said. Kenma was actually relieved it was his friend. His voice sounded stern which either meant Bokuto had done something stupid and Akaashi scolded him, or Bokuto is threatening to do something stupid, and Akaashi is preparing to scold him. He didn’t want to waste Akaashi’s time by telling him all about the bed of all things, so he put it aside for now. 

They talked for a while, discussing what had happened between the alpha and omega earlier. In retrospect, Kenma was really glad that it was going quite smoothly. For some omegas, this would have been a nightmare situation, but he reluctantly had to admit Kuroo was civil. His lack of scent aside, he didn’t have… a ‘hungry’ look to him. 

Kenma shivered at the thought. 

_“I have to get back now.”_ said Akaashi. Even Kenma could tell the worriedness in Akaashi’s voice, and he prayed silently that his friend wouldn’t get a headache from his boss. They exchanged goodbyes leaving Kenma with nothing to do but procrastinate from tidying up. How could he move his body when the bed was stopping him? It was a real dilemma. He tried coming up with reasons to move at that moment, but “soft bed” was undefeatable until he remembered it was his bedroom in _Kuroo’s_ house. 

Thoughts drifted into Kuroo coming in, to do something horrible, but for some reason his imagination quickly shifted it into Kuroo smirking and taunting him for being so disorganized and untidy on his first night here. If there was anything Kenma found annoying, it was that smugness. With a grunt, he got up and began tidying, just to spite the imaginary alpha. 

It took less than fifteen minutes, which irked him. _‘Is he my mom, or something?’_ Kenma thought, and snorted to himself again. The mental image of upper-caste alpha Kuroo in an apron waking him up in the morning like a nagging mother was staggering, and he was reduced to giggling into his clothes. After he calmed down, he threw himself back on the bed and started playing games. There was no threat of having to work this time, so he told himself he could relax and play games as much as he wanted. 

But then he thought about how that would give Kuroo a bad impression, as if he hadn’t already messed up by being unsociable and too quiet. 

Kenma paused the game. 

The bed didn’t feel pleasant, but suffocating. Although the room was big, the walls felt like they were crowding him, and his clothes were sticking to his skin. His blood was pulsing, and all he could think of was just how bad he already messed up. His thoughts snowballed from Kuroo already hating him, to being forcibly kicked out (even though the contract could only end on _his_ terms), to Akaashi hating him because he let him down, and then to being homeless. It was irrational, and it was a crude representation of events, and he knew he was cherry picking his bad experiences specifically to upset himself, but his mind and body were pulsing, and replaying every single one of his bad decisions in life to spite him. And somehow after all of that, he still thought it was his fault. 

Fortunately, it waned after a while. For five whole minutes his heart felt like it was going through a rollercoaster, but his body was dead and unable to move. The feeling was replaced with apathy, just like that. Kenma got up and sighed very, very deeply. He was no longer in the mood for games, and his eyelids were growing heavy. Kenma forced himself to stand and go to Kuroo and get the shirt. Holding one of his shirts, Kenma stepped outside, and went over to Kuroo’s room. 

He hesitated before the door, pressing his forehead against it before taking a deep breath. Kenma knocked on the door softly, which kind of went against the concept of knocking, but after a few moments, the door opened. 

“Yes~?” Kuroo poked his head out. The alpha had changed his clothes and he looked much more casual with a black t-shirt and a pair of sweats. He would have looked less daunting as well, had it not been for the glasses, which jolted Kenma. 

Not because they made him look stern, but because they looked good. 

They looked really good. 

Kenma was never going to admit that to him, and not even to himself. That was just Kuroo, smug Kuroo, smug _alpha_ Kuroo wearing glasses. He turned his head away from him and began to mumble about the shirt. He hated his voice right then and there because he couldn’t tell if it was that soft, or extremely squeaky. 

“Gotcha,” Kuroo said, turning back inside. Kenma could see a small area of the room. There was a desk with a laptop on it, some bookshelves with various scientific books, and he could spot some framed photos and plaques on the wall. Kuroo returned a second later, carrying a taped paper bag. Kuroo looked less easy-going somehow, as he handed Kenma the parcel. 

“You should probably unwrap it in your room,” he suggested. “Your shirt?” Kuroo held out his hand. Kenma handed him the shirt. He used it a few days ago, missing laundry day because of the move. He made a mental note to ask about laundry tomorrow. 

The two of them exchanged some words, bade each other good night, then went their separate ways. Kenma was holding the paper bag in his hands carefully. It felt soft, which gave Kenma all sorts of ideas. Was this the start of a horror film where he’d unwrap a bloody heart? Could it be something worse? He said it was a shirt, but why did he have to wrap it up? Kenma exchanged his shirt normally, so why didn’t Kuroo? He hurried to his room and locked the door once. On his bed, he scratched the tape off and stuck his hand in. 

He felt cloth. Normal cloth. 

Then the scent hit him. 

Kenma flung the paper bag away, using his other hand to cover his nose. It was useless, because the smell had begun to permeate the air. It wasn’t a bad smell. In fact, he actually liked it. Heavy and bittersweet, Kuroo smelled like a full box of chocolates fresh from the chocolatiers. Yet it was an abnormal amount to be obtained from a shirt alone. It was as if he was trapped in the box itself, and was drowning in chocolate. 

Warmth began to creep up Kenma’s cheeks, followed by his whole body. He felt himself tingling, only realizing now his scant familiarity with alpha pheromones. And that was only his hand he had stuck there. He hadn’t even directly sniffed the damn shirt itself! 

Kenma’s skin was prickling with heat, and he began to sweat. It was bad. It was _really_ bad. With some effort, he managed to fling a pillow at the paper bag. It took a few moments, but the smell began to diminish, until Kenma could breathe. He exhaled, shoulders loosening and collapsed on the bed. Though his body was hot and gained a reaction, it wasn’t substantial enough to get _it_ to rise. 

He gulped. There was no way he could return the shirt, because that meant holding it close to himself and going directly to Kuroo, and that would only spell a big amount of trouble for him. The only solution was to get used to it, which was a mantra he applied to most things outside of his control like taxes and working, but never for alpha pheromones of this level. 

Regardless, Kenma (with a hand over his nose) went back over and flipped the pillow over. It got stronger, but there was less of a reaction for him. Slowly, he removed his hand and decided to upturn the paper bag. A dark gray shirt rolled out into a pile in front of him. His skin was prickling again, but he kept his breath steady. As far as Kenma knew, if he went and hyperventilated this…. _noxiously_ good odor, he’d keel over and start begging for a certain someone to enter him. 

Gingerly, he held the shirt up. There was nothing to inspect from it. It was a completely normal shirt that was just _drenched_ in pheromones. It was a struggle not to bury his face in it, to take in every bit of the essence, and to let himself be vulnerable to the lightheaded feeling he was experiencing right now. 

Kenma brought the shirt to his nose and inhaled. He lurched forwards into the pillow, rubbing his nose against the softness, and the smell. It enveloped all of his senses, lending warmth to his body; warmth he never welcomed, and images of Kuroo Tetsurou (with glasses) entering his room, touching him, and flipping him over, and then… 

The image was replaced by a Kuroo wearing an apron and nagging at him to wake up. 

Kenma chucked the shirt at the wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we know how Kenma will get the pheromones! I gotta say, Kenma got a bit imaginative during this chapter! :D
> 
> I ALSO CAN'T BELIEVE I REACHED 100+ KUDOS ON MY FIRST FIC!!! CAN YOU BELIEVE? THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! Never expected it to gain this much traction! I don't know if this is a 'reward' of some sorts, but I want to tell you guys that my current plan is to push an update ever 2-4 days, which should give you an idea when to check on the fic. Of course you guys can also bookmark/subscribe or follow me on twitter/tumblr @danmujiji! (I'm more active on twitter, whereas tumblr is mostly for art/reblogs) 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed reading! Your support inspires me to keep updating!


	8. Flipped Switch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma deals with the symptoms of last night, and spends the day inside the house.

Sleeping with the shirt was more difficult than Kenma thought. To cope, he kept it in his closet so it would affect his other clothes but even then the chocolate odor managed to seep inside his room. He tossed and turned all night, his skin prickling like he was being electrified on a gentle setting. If it was alarm or arousal, he couldn’t quite tell. One moment he’d be slipping into a state of comfort only to spike back into discomfort. The next moment his body would peak in a mixture of pain and pleasure only to dissolve completely into numbness. Numerous times he would contemplate taking the shirt out, to wrap himself in the smell, but hanging above his conscience was knowing that this had been the first time in a _very_ long time he had been exposed to alpha pheromones and unlike strangers, the alpha who owned these pheromones was just a knock away.

Kenma wondered if Kuroo was experiencing the same thing. He imagined the alpha twisting and turning over his bed, held captive by the omega’s pheromones. Kenma wished he did, but he also wished he didn’t, because he was still quite wary of the lock on the door; how sturdy it is, how much Kenma could truly rely on it. It further spiked his paranoia, repelling most of the casual arousal his body was relentless at making him feel. 

The silence of the room was unbearable. Kenma anticipated footsteps or breathing past his door. Was Kuroo outside? Kuroo, the tall, wealthy, _alpha_ anticipating a moment of weakness from Kenma, (as if the omega wasn’t weak enough as is) for him to open the door and take advantage of it? If Kenma stepped outside right now, would someone grab him? To force him down and rape him? He shuddered as a chill went down his spine and he turned rigid under the sheets. His ears searched for noise and his eyes were wide open. 

No matter how comfortable his bed was, or how warm and soft the blankets were, he couldn’t quite enjoy it. Eventually though, by a stroke of mercy from god, he did drift into a fitful, dreamless sleep. 

The following morning, he woke up with a headache. He groaned softly, and managed to shamble out of his bed. While he kept his omega medicine in his duffel bag, he didn’t have other medicine because they tended to be on the expensive side. After all, why pay to fix what you can endure? 

Kenma pinched the bridge of his nose as he got to the door. He pressed his forehead against the surface, trying to get his head to stop spinning for a second. While standing there, he noticed the smell of the pheromones had noticeably diminished compared to last night. His body was no longer reacting to it as much, save for the headache. Kenma reached for the door knob and twisted it. It didn’t budge, so he twisted it again. 

Oh, he forgot he locked the door. The room was locked tight until Kenma found the key. It was significantly harder to unlock when he was holding onto one side of his face because of the pain. When he finally unlocked it, he stumbled outside to the soft scent of coffee. Kuroo must be awake. He immediately turned cautious, gripping the keys in his hands. Kenma knew it was illogical; between an alpha and an omega with a headache and nothing but some keys to defend himself with, who would win? 

He carefully descended the stairs and headed for the kitchen. As expected, Kuroo was there seen in a dress shirt and slacks. Kuroo, scentless as he had always been, leaning against the kitchen island with his face obscured by a newspaper. 

The headline read: “Fated Pairs: Fact or Fiction?” 

A pot of coffee was brewing in one of the machines. Kuroo lowered the newspaper, looking around until he saw Kenma. He was wearing his glasses. 

“Oh, hey. Morning Kenma,” he greeted and waved. 

Kenma nodded, mumbling ‘good morning’ back at him. “D-do you…” He stammered, then grunted in pain as the pain spiked momentarily. 

Kuroo looked concerned and approached him. “What is it? What do you need?” 

Kenma backed away from him, and Kuroo looked stunned for a second before taking a step back. He repeated his question slowly, but firmly. “Kenma, _what do you need?_ I’ll get it to you.” 

Kenma hesitated, the keys still tight in his grip. “H… Headache…” = 

The alpha moved fast, turning his heel and going for one of the shelves. There, he twisted open a bottle of Advil, gave one look at Kenma, then extracted two pills. He placed these on a saucer over the counter then fetched water for the omega to drink. 

Spotting the pills, Kenma relaxed his grip on the keys, shoving them in his pocket. When the water arrived, Kenma took the pills and downed them, quickly swallowing all the water in hungry gulps afterwards. He exhaled sharply, then slumped forwards, using the counter’s edge to steady himself. 

He felt Kuroo looking at him. Though with what expression, he didn’t know what. 

“Easy now, Kenma,” he said. After a while, “so a headache, huh?” 

He could only grunt in reply. Though the medicine was working, it was working slowly. 

“I got a question, was that your first time with alpha pheromones?" 

Kenma jerked his head towards the alpha. He regretted it immediately, not just because the motion gave him vertigo, but because Kuroo was grinning. 

“Looks like I guessed right. Well, as a biochemist, let me explain to you why. Let’s sit,” he gestured at the dining area. Curious enough, Kenma obeyed and sat down. Kuroo sat across him. 

The alpha cleared his throat. “You know that special nerve in our brains located in the hippocampus, right? The hippocampus is what controls or rather _manages_ our emotions. So if you ever feel embarrassed, you got this,” he tapped his temple twice, “to blame. It’s also what matches our pheromones to our emotions. Betas have this nerve too, but it’s smaller compared to ours so it doesn’t take much precedence in their brain, that’s why they’re mostly fine and unaffected by alpha and omega pheromones,” 

Kenma was squinting at him. His head really hurt and he wanted Kuroo to get to the point already. 

“Anyways, your body basically went into a veeeery minor anaphylactic shock. When it was processing my pheromones, it wasn’t quite used to the…” Kuroo trailed off, his eyes searching for a proper word somewhere. “ _Potency._ I kind of expected this, actually.” 

It was incredulous how Kuroo could just say ‘just a little bit of anaphylactic shock’ like it was nothing. Kenma glowered at him. “So you knew.” 

Kuroo waved his hands. “Hey, I didn’t expect such a strong reaction! I honestly thought you’d have more ‘experience’ with it. I mean, you work, right?” 

_”Had_ work. I wasn’t allowed near alphas.” Kenma told him with an edge of annoyance in his voice. 

Kuroo rubbed the back of his head. “My bad,” he apologized. “But since you’ve been exposed to it and took and Advil, you should be fine for now. It persists, you should take an Advil every 6 hours.” 

The omega grunted back at him. For a second he felt bad for snapping, then he thought he shouldn’t, because Kuroo never warned him in the first place. 

It was quiet between them again until Kuroo offered to serve him breakfast. Kenma nodded. 

Breakfast was tamagoyaki, pickles, grilled fish, miso soup, and rice. 

The omega hesitated in front of the food. His eyes were darting between the dishes like he had never seen them before. It wasn’t far from the truth; it had just been a very long time since he saw a full meal on the table. Kuroo was looking at him, half-expectant and half-amused with his sly-looking expression. Realizing he must have made it weird, Kenma bowed his head again and started eating. 

He was surprised it was actually good. Though he didn’t say anything, Kenma was eating with gusto, as if he only discovered now just how good a freshly made meal was that didn’t come from a packet. The rice was warm and fluffy, the eggs were a perfect sweetness, and the fish was salted to perfection. He even ate the vegetables! 

“Glad to see you’re enjoying yourself so much~” Kuroo hummed, finishing ahead of him. Kenma noticed he ate a lot; there were three fishbones over his plate and he took most of the rice. “I gotta get to work now, be back at around…” He glanced at his wristwatch. “7 or 8. Hopefully.” 

_Hopefully?_

__

Kenma nodded. “Okay, Kuro.” After a pause, considering it would be rude or not, he added: “Have a nice day.” 

__

Kuroo blinked, caught off guard. He broke into a grin. “Yes, Kenma~” 

__

Kenma watched him as he left for the garage. For work, Kuroo carried that same briefcase from the Coffee Tree cafe, a white lab coat folded over his arm. A few minutes later, he heard a car rev and pull out of the driveway. Kenma finished eating shortly after and stuck the dishes in the dishwasher. 

__

Now, Kenma was alone. 

__

It felt weird that he was now stuck in this absurdly large house with nothing to do, and this house was also (technically) his and he can do anything in there. At first he thought of going back inside his room to play games, but he remembered that Kuroo’s shirt was still in there and he wasn’t particularly excited to feel… bothered by it for the rest of the day. He decided that while he was still alone, he’d stay out in the living room. The couches looked comfortable enough and he was pretty close to the kitchen in case he got hungry. It was a decidedly a solid plan on how to spend the day in the new house. Keep to one spot, don’t get curious and explore, and ignore discomfort through games. It was set. 

__

First and foremost though, he had to take a shower. 

__

_‘Need to get the Kuro stink off me,'_ he thought as he headed back upstairs. Upon arriving, he locked his door and got inside the bathroom. He was surprised it was so big. It was twice as big as his old bathroom and even had a bathtub in it. The only problem was the mirror, which spanned the wall above the sink. Kenma thought it was a bit too much and hurriedly drew the shower curtains closed when he was about to bathe. 

__

Once safe from his own reflection, Kenma sat in the tub to try and figure out the shower settings. Back at D-12, the setup was simple. There was one knob for the temperature, and a lever for turning the water on or off. This one was unreasonably simpler. Two nearly-identical steel dials were staring back at him. Out of curiosity, he twisted one. 

__

Cold water blasted him from above, jolting his soul out of his own body. Kenma yelped and desperately twisted it back, shivering bad after the impact. He thought he died right then and there, and having to face the reality of the shower was the equivalent of having a life deducted in a game then being resurrected to challenge a boss again. With carefulness, Kenma tentatively twisted the other dial to the right, then the first one again. 

__

Warm water came at a gentler rate this time, and Kenma exhaled deeply. Slowly, the water rose until it was up to his stomach. That’s when he stopped the shower and leaned back, enjoying being in hot water. Ever since he left his parents’ house he hadn’t been able to luxuriate in a bathtub like this. Cutting costs became Kenma’s life after leaving, and since time was money he couldn’t afford to lose, he never really did get much opportunities to sit down and relax without the foreboding threat of bills looming before him. 

__

Wait, could it be that he was adding too much to the bill? Would Kuroo kick him out? 

__

It was a random strain of thought that snowballed one problem into another. Kenma considered a house as big as this (and all for one guy) to cost a small fortune every month in bills. And there he was, pigging out on hot water like some sort of spoilt emperor. 

__

Kenma blew bubbles underwater with his nose in ten second intervals to calm himself down. It was something Akaashi taught him (though for the latter, it was holding his breath to keep from snapping at anyone) to keep calm back then. 

__

Right, Kuroo wouldn’t do that. The contract wouldn't allow it. 

__

Kenma scrubbed himself clean, and finished his bath. He took one of the fluffy towels and dried off. Once dry enough, he stepped outside of the bathroom and grimaced when the scent of Kuroo caught him unaware. Kenma covered his nose and held his breath, ignoring the tingling sensation coursing through his naked body, and while talking short gulps of air every few moments, somehow managed to get himself dressed without getting too ‘bothered’ by it. 

__

He did have to go stretch outside the door to redirect the blood elsewhere. 

__

With his PSP, charger, and phone at hand, Kenma began to play games on the couch. Sitting on it felt good. It had soft and smooth leather upholstery, and it wasn't too hard, but tender. Before long, Kenma was nestled at the corner of the L-shaped couch tapping away on this game called Patapon. He was really getting into the swing of playing as god and directing his tiny army of eyeball-creatures using rhythmic drum beats to attack 2D monsters for resources when a sudden wave of nervousness hit him. He began glancing around, looking for the source of his nervousness when he spotted all his boxes of stuff. He paused the game and left it on the couch as he started glancing over how to move it all up to his room. 

__

The next two hours was spent doing just that. Kenma, a bone-thin omega somehow managed to move most of his things upstairs, and he hated it every single step of the way up and down. He felt like an old man who threw out their back by the end of it, literally hobbling back to the couch and plopping himself over it. He’d do all of that just to make sure Kuroo didn’t think he was just a freeloader. 

__

Well, the worst part is that’s literally what the contract was asking of him. Become a freeloader at an alpha’s house; a parasite occasionally used, and Kenma had agreed to it. So why did he feel like he should be doing _something?_

__

He switched his handheld back on. The addictive rhythm game helped take his mind off about those things only slightly. He still couldn’t fully enjoy his game. It’s like his body was itching to do or _find_ something. Hours passed with Kenma on the couch half-anxious and half-engaged, yearning to get up for something he can’t see, yet too hesitant to follow his urges. This internal tug-of-war of ‘should I’ and ‘I shouldn’t’ was punctuated by a single meal: a slice of apple pie from the fridge. After that, he paced around the area like an bored animal in a cage before plopping back on couch, grumpy somehow, for absolutely no reason at all. He couldn’t explain it, because it was a feeling he had never experienced before. 

__

Kenma had stopped playing his PSP. Now, the sun had begun to set, bathing the living room in a warm orange. His grumpiness was replaced by a sense of restlessness, uncharacteristic to him, who _liked_ staying unnoticed, untalked-to, and comfortable in one spot. He had his brows knitted together and his eyes looking furtively to and fro. He had already fixed his things, and the dishes were done and dried. He wasn’t hungry, nor did he need to go to the bathroom, and yet he couldn’t get comfortable. It wasn’t like he forgot anything either; he and Akaashi emptied out his apartment! 

__

So what was it? 

__

Angrily, he rested his head against the armrest, body curled like a cat’s while trying to figure it out. It wasn’t of much help because he fell asleep immediately, like an idiot. When Kenma woke up, it was way past 8 and he was certain he had a dream but he forgot about it the moment his jolted upright on the couch at the sound of the door opening. 

__

The click of the lock and the creak of the door swinging open put in his head a single word. The answer to his restlessness and searching: _Kuro._ Kenma turned his head to where the door was, his heart beating loudly. When he saw Kuroo emerge from the foyer, his body released tension and he finally let out a deep breath. 

__

The alpha looked tired. His glasses were practically slipping off his nose, and underneath his white lab coat, his dress shirt had been unbuttoned twice, exposing some lines of his chest. He removed his shoes by the front door with a sigh, and was practically dragging his feet to where the couch was, before throwing himself on it with a loud thump. 

__

Kenma was stunned. He stared at the alpha who was face down on the couch as if he were dead, only mere inches away from touching him. Kenma smelled that faint medicina smell like a hospital, or somewhere incredibly sterilized and very slightly, undertones of chocolate. It was weird. He shifted closer to his corner, his movements alerting Kuroo who flinched away from the source and threw himself onto the floor with a loud yell. 

__

“Ow! What the hell…” Kuroo grumbled, rubbing his head. “Fuck, Kenma! How long have you been there?!” 

__

_”Pffft.”_ He couldn’t resist laughing softly. He turned his head away from Kuroo who was pulling himself back up on the couch, clearly annoyed he had given hurt himself. 

__

“Ha-ha, very funny,” Kuroo snorted, lying back down on the couch with a grunt. He was inhaling and exhaling hard. 

__

The omega gulped. Was Kuroo legitimately mad? He opened his mouth to apologize, but then Kuroo’s expression softened a bit. Then it scrunched up again. The pattern repeated itself and Kenma watched curiously until he found himself doing the unthinkable. Without meaning to, he reached over, and poked Kuroo between his eyebrows. The alpha’s eyes opened immediately, looking up at him. 

__

_“Hmm?”_

__

“E-erm,” Kenma couldn’t meet him in the eyes. “How was… today?” 

__

He couldn’t see it, but he could imagine Kuroo’s expression shift. As predicted, Kuroo did, and he sat up, some distance away from Kenma which the omega was grateful for. 

__

“Today, huh? Well, it wasn’t bad. But it was stressful as hell. We have this new intern named Haiba Lev. Some tall alpha graduate, half Russian, half Japanese, and full-breed idiot. Our pharma scientist Yaku has his hands full with that dolt. Just imagine this tiny-- oh shit, I think he’s actually a bit shorter than you-- _tiny_ omega wrangling some near two meter tall alpha to the ground. T’was good entertainment, but if Lev fucks up our research results again, we’re probably relocating him to another team.” Kuroo laughed, waving his hands. 

__

Kenma was listening intently. He had his eyes on Kuroo now. Kuroo glanced at him and decided to continue. 

__

“So to deal with him, we decided a game of fetch. Like, Lev! Go fetch me some coffee! Lev, go get me some papers! Dude loves it, and he’s so long he can probably pop in and out of a room with a single step. But eh,” Kuroo sighed, his head lowering, “he’s still more trouble than he’s worth right now. So now I gotta step in, like a good samaritan and break him in~” And his smirk was back on his face. Kuroo kept at it for a while, saying this and that about who and where. Kenma picked up on a lot of details, but singled out three most important facts. 

__

First, Kuroo’s team had omegas. Kenma never imagined an _omega_ working so closely with an alpha on a team, and at such a privileged spot as well. Kuroo sounded as if he either really respected this Yaku person, or maybe annoyed at Yaku's excellence. Second, they had just finished something really _really_ big, and were currently preparing their reports for marketing and wholesale, which is what the Fukurodani group was in charge of. It explained how Bokuto was more higher-up than Kuroo, because Bokuto was handling the cash. Third, Bokuto wanted to see Kenma soon. That was important because Kenma had made it a side quest for himself to never see, hear, or experience Bokuto in any way or form, because he knew too much about him from Akaashi. 

__

After talking for a while Kuroo got up from the couch, and stretched. Kenma got reminded of the several inches of distance between their heights. 

__

“Welp, I’m gonna go up and change. Had dinner?” Kuroo asked him. 

__

Kenma shook his head. 

__

“Great, we’ll eat together then, Kenma.” He reached over and ruffled the top of Kenma’s hair, jarring the smaller omega. Kuroo withdrew his arm like he had touched hot coals. “Shit, sorry,” he cursed. 

__

To Kenma’s surprise, he found himself shaking his head. “I-it’s okay, Kuro. Just... surprised.” 

__

“Oh,” Kuroo scratched his cheek. “Well, I’ll try not to jostle you next time. See you in 20.” He said, then went upstairs. 

__

The omega collapsed on the couch. He could still feel Kuroo’s fingers on the top of his head, and no matter how much he pat down that spot, it wouldn’t go away. That wasn’t the only thing that stayed on his head, though. There were the words ‘next time’ repeating itself like a broken record, and the track was just “Kuroo Tetsurou - Next Time”. Normally he’d be miffed at the implication of a ‘next time’ involving human contact, and in a normal situation he would have tried not to allow others to touch him. However, like a switch had been flipped, he said that a ‘next time’ was okay. 

__

Last night he was thinking if Kuroo might assault him. Now he had allowed Kuroo to touch his head. There was a terrifyingly artificial thing about all of this breaking the borders Kenma set for himself and for others. 

_’Curse these pheromones.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the support! Kudos and comments are always appreciated! Hope you guys are enjoying the story so far! 
> 
> Slight edits: I'll be editing the tags more, eventually. I just added IwaOi because in my heart, Kuroo and Oikawa would be good friends ;^; They will be making an appearance alongside some DaiSuga! I might actually change my mind on TsukiHina but these other ships (except BokuAka) won't be arriving until we're possibly halfway into the story, I hope you don't mind! That, and I decided top stop capitalizing the ABO titles because it's a pain :(
> 
> [If you ever want to talk, say hi, or see my hq/fic-related content, follow me at @danmujiji on twitter! I tend to DM people when I'm about to update the fic, and I'm more active there than tumblr!]


	9. Minor Conflict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma and Kuroo finally get to chat! Kenma geeks out over games, and Kuroo watches How It's Made.

The following week proceeded like normal. Kenma would wake up in the morning to breakfast with Kuroo. After Kuroo leaves for work, Kenma would spend the whole day in the living room playing games, stopping only to eat, go to the bathroom or take a brief nap. How perfect it would have been to spend every single day of the rest of his life like that, if it weren’t for _one_ little thing. Shortly after Kuroo would leave the house, Kenma would be struck with that same anxiety and longing, reducing his enjoyment of any activity. The sense of unease only grew stronger with each day and Kenma knew only Kuroo’s presence could restore his normal state. 

But with Kuroo gone, he only had google to turn to. He had to admit being embarrassed having to search for these types of things, marking his inexperience with alphas in general. He also blamed his past high school for giving them no such education related to the alpha-omega relationship past the same messages of becoming ‘happier’ through bonding. 

Glancing around nervously (though he had no reason to be) he put in: ‘feeling restless when alpha is gone’ into the search bar. A lot of results came up. 

The most popular links told him it was a form of ‘separation anxiety’, a condition that was mostly prevalent among alphas and omegas with a weak bond. Various people (mostly omegas) likened it to a “harmless” addiction when their bodies wanted constant exposure to their alpha’s pheromones to feel at ease. Couples with stronger bonds could withstand longer periods without each other but those were more common amongst actual _mated_ pairs or approaching that. The cause of anxiety, as it appeared, was a mixture of pheromonal and emotional instability, which is why it was strongly recommended when and alpha and omega get together, they should keep within close distance as much as possible, even going as far as to share the same roof, or what they’d call the ‘nesting’ phase. 

Kenma grimaced. He kept reading until the effects of too much separation anxiety. 

Most omegas who let themselves be separated for too long reported feeling extremely restless, a lack of focus, and the urge to wander around “looking for their alpha”’. This could lead to nervous breakdowns, or possibly a premature triggering of their heat cycle in order to ‘replace’ the alpha pheromones. In rare, _extremely_ severe cases where omegas have a complete breakdown, they must be rushed to the nearest hospital for treatment. While not fatal, too much separation anxiety could permanently bring them mental damage. 

_‘Just what part of this is a “harmless addiction”?!’_ Kenma buried his face in his hands and hissed out.

Now his body began to act up again, the nervousness catching him unaware once he was no longer focused on figuring the damn thing out. He thought he could wait it out; pause for a moment and take deep breaths until he could pick up a game to play.

This time was different. When he attempted a deep breath, his chest contracted like something had lungs in a vice-like grip. He wheezed and clutched at his chest. There was no pain yet he couldn’t inhale properly, his capacity for breath had been reduced greatly. A few moments passed until he could breathe properly again. 

The physical afflictions were beyond annoying, thought Kenma as he grit his teeth and decided to head upstairs. If his body wanted pheromones so damn much, it was going to get it. Going upstairs, he ducked inside his bedroom door and went straight for his closet, flinging the doors open. When the smell hit him, he made a connection.

Though Kuroo’s shirt was still tossed over the clothes, the pheromones emanating from it were weaker than before. Kenma brought it to his nose to investigate. He sighed into it, his body relaxing, the tensions melting off him like chocolate on a tongue. The smell was still there, bittersweet, but not quite as overpowering, and not enough to affect his body much. 

It confirmed the search results. Kenma stood in his room for a full minute, sniffing the shirt tentatively, then slowly he began inhaling the scent. The omega was blinking slowly like he was drowsy, but he felt more awake than ever. He headed back downstairs.

He supposed that, it would be embarrassing to be caught sniffing Kuroo’s shirt like some sort of pervert. He thought that he should keep it around while the alpha wasn’t home yet, and the matter was settled. At his corner on the couch he was playing his games with his knees tucked up to his chin, his eyes focused solely on the screen, and the shirt wrapped around his neck and up to his nose like a scarf.  
Kenma never recalled playing so well in that game. By the second hour, he had acknowledged that the pheromones were like a buff item that gave him extra focus and reflexes. Now, seeing his score rack up on the screen like crazy brought him a different type of joy, and he smiled into the fabric. He kept playing with the shirt on his nose, enjoying a streak of wins against opponents online. Hours passed once again, and Kenma only slowed down when he realized the smell of the shirt had already begun to fade. The loss of comfort allowed uneasiness to come and trickle back in, and in no time once again, Kenma was nervous, glancing repetitively at the door. 

Until now, he was pretty convinced he didn’t like 95% of people. Until now, he always felt relieved whenever people left him alone. Today, he found himself repeatedly thinking-- no, _wishing_ Kuroo would come home already. Without meaning to, Kenma’s situation had allowed Kuroo to be a prominent force in how he lived his life. 

It was annoying, it was a pain, but at the very least, Kuroo Tetsurou was not the worst person to be around. Though smug at times, he knew when to tone it down, and he was more accommodating than he looked. Kenma was going to admit, just a little bit and _only_ to himself that Kuroo… was attractive. He didn’t have the best eye for such things, but if Kuroo and his punkish, bedhead hairstyle could pull off the glasses, then his face was ‘good’. 

Oh my god, he was such a freak thinking about how Kuroo was attractive _while_ sniffing his shirt. God, the pheromones were really getting to him. 

Kenma (with some reluctance) peeled the shirt away from him. A faint warmth was spreading all over his cheeks. His face quickly became hot. What the hell was getting into him? He put the shirt aside and buried his face into his knees. 

Then he heard the sound of the car pulling up. There was no warning honk. Kenma grabbed his phone, quickly checking the time. It was 4PM, and Kuroo wasn’t usually home for another couple of hours. He was frozen in spot, caught in a blitz of panic. Outside, the sound of the car door being shut was heard. Kenma looked over his surroundings. His gadgets were scattered around, a mess over the seats and coffee table, the dishes hadn’t been washed, and worst of all, he still had the shirt in his hands! 

The only thing he could do was shake in his spot. The What could he do? If he tried to make a dash for the stairs, he could risk being caught in the act of hiding it. 

_‘Calm down,’_ he told himself, _‘This is perfectly normal omega behavior,’_ and yet his heart was palpitating as the door clicked open and Kuroo stepped in. Though this time, Kenma wasn’t calm. He heard Kuroo before he saw him. He was talking loudly into the phone pressed between his cheek and shoulder as he was trying to unlace one of his shoes at the foyer.

“I get it, I get! Look, I’m _already_ home, Bokuto! I see Kenma right now! Wha-- What’s he wearing? Fuck,” Kuroo cursed at his phone, and squinted at Kenma. “Some hoodie and sweats!” He waited for Bokuto’s response.

From the looks of it, Kuroo wasn’t pleased. His face turned into a pissed expression. “What do you mean I could be lying! Look, Bo, Bo,” he inhaled deeply, then cooed into the phone, _”babes,_ would I ever lie to you? Angels can’t lie, you know~” 

Kenma snorted from the couch. Kuroo heard him and stuck his tongue out. 

“Ugh, I already said that was the last time I’m working. I’m not bothering anyone by supervising Lev, or Yaku, or Kai, _or_ Yamamoto, ’kay? They’re my team, and captains need to-- fine, fine. But if the product is delayed because _I_ wasn’t there, I’m going to shave your hair!” He yelled. Kenma could hear Bokuto squak from the receiver, which earned a cackle from Kuroo whose demeanor suddenly and completely shifted back into his default smug-ish state. He sported his smirk. “Anyways, we’re all still good for the night out, right? _Nice._ Ukekawa and Iwa’ll be there, for sure! ‘Kay, hanging up now, buh-bye babes~ Mwah~” He made a smooching noise, earning a deep cringe from Kenma. After hanging up, Kuroo sighed very, very deeply, his shoulders drooping forward. 

“Mm’home~” he said, his tone tired. The call took out a lot from him. 

“W-welcome home,” Kenma responded. As usual, Kuroo stumbled over to the couch and planted his face there, stopping short of a few inches away from Kenma. He waved back weakly, letting his limbs loose. With his white coat he looked like some sort of beached jellyfish, long limbs dangling everywhere. 

Kuroo raised his head. “Sorry ya heard that. Bo was being little prick,” 

Kenma tilted his head. “You’re… not supposed to be working, Kuro?”

The alpha paused for a second. Then a grin broke out. “Heh, yeah, but y’know me~ I like making sure everything’s running smoothly. I’ve actually been on a paid leave since last week. Sorry ‘bout that, but I bet you missed me, huh~?” 

Kenma shifted uncomfortably and looked away. Kuroo blinked twice. He sat up, facing Kenma. 

“Oi, oi, are you for real? Little Kenma missed me? Aw, I’m so touched~” 

“Shut up, it’s the… pheromones,” he scoffed. The warmth was returning to his face. 

“Oooh, I’m sure~” Kuroo cooed. “Don’t worry though, you’ll be seeing more of _this,_ ” he made a sweeping gesture at himself, “more often now that Bokuto-- that shitty brat --called my supervisor, and they _literally_ forced me to in the car to go home.” 

Now it was Kenma’s turn to look at him weird. Normally, people would love taking a break from work. In fact, getting a paid leave was something of a fantasy for Kenma, and yet Kuroo spoke like he utterly loathed being torn away from his work to the point that he had to be manhandled into a break. He had to wonder just how strong the staff were to be able to force this six-foot alpha into a vehicle. 

“What?” Kuroo asked. “You’re staring, Kenma.”

“Ah-- S-sorry,” he flushed. To his dismay, Kuroo reached over and felt his forehead. 

“You don’t feel hot. I was wondering if you were sick. Or could it be?” 

_‘Uh oh,’_ Kenma tensed. 

“Could you be falling in love with me~?”

And there it was. He shook Kuroo’s hand off. “No. Ew.”

It’s like any of his reactions fed Kuroo’s grin. The alpha rubbed his arm, making a pouty face. “Ew? Kenma you can’t say ‘ew’ to me like that! Nobody in this world who would pass up the chance to date _me!_ ” He made that sweeping gesture at himself again.

The omega snorted and rolled his eyes. “Fix your hair and maybe I’ll consider it,” he said softly. It was something he meant as a joke, but wasn’t too sure if Kuroo would mind, and he absolutely did not mean it. But Kuroo did hear him. The alpha actually looked troubled as he pinched at a strand from his fringe. Kuroo sighed. 

“You’re asking me for the impossible here, Kenma! There’s no fixing this bad boy!”

“Are you talking about your hair, or your personality?” 

Kuroo gawked at him. They stared at each other before Kuroo burst into laughter, and Kenma allowed himself to chuckle alongside him, into the collar of his hoodie. 

“Not bad, not bad at all~” Kuroo said, getting up from the couch. “Alright, I’m gonna go change. See ya later~” 

“Mmm,” Kenma nodded. Kuroo reached over and pat him on the head lightly. The touch lingered, or so Kenma imagined.  
When Kuroo was out of sight, Kenma went and found the hamper, dumping his shirt inside. The alpha returned just as he got settled back on the couch and joined the omega there. He was dressed in a shirt and a pair of track shorts exposing more thigh than Kenma thought was necessary. Not only were his legs long, but they were toned and well-defined; tanned lightly just above where the hem ended. 

This was all incredibly unfair, thought Kenma. Kuroo was affecting him in ways he couldn’t control, from the pheromones to _this,_ by far the most bothersome thing Kenma had to experience this week. Today he gave in and sniffed the shirt, admitted Kuroo was hot, and now he was looking at Kuroo’s legs. The worst part of it all? Kenma could keep staring. Kuroo had turned on the massive television set and was using it to watch “How It’s Made” on YouTube. He appeared completely engrossed in the process of jawbreaker-making, lying on his side with his head supported by a hand and one leg folded up while muttering what sounded like chemical components under his breath. The upright leg had caused the boxers to slide down, gravity be cursed, and expose an inch of lighter skin. 

Why was he getting bothered over thighs like a 15-year old? Kenma seethed and began mashing the buttons harder on his PSP. After a few minutes of this, Kuroo paused the video. 

“Getting riled up there, ‘sit difficult?” 

Kenma twitched. “Not really,” he replied.

“Oh? Sounds like the opposite. You spend the whole day like this?” He asked.

Kenma remembered that his stuff still lay around them, and he cursed how observant Kuroo was. He flushed slightly, and could only nod. 

“What game is that?” 

“It’s old. Monster Hunter,” then after a while, “Freedom Unite,” he added.

“I’ve heard about that before. I know a guy named Daichi who I _think_ told a story related to it once. What’s good about it?” Kuroo turned his head to Kenma. 

The omega stiffened. Reluctance marked his face, but Kuroo kept staring so he made himself speak. “It’s… not like your typical RPG game,” he began to mumble. “It’s a cycle of hunting monsters, getting their parts to build weapons and armor, and then hunting stronger monsters. Though, even if you hunt the monsters, only your equipment levels up, not your character. Even a low-rank monster can do a lot of damage if you’re not playing properly,”

Kuroo sat up and went closer to him, their bodies only a few inches apart now as he leaned over to look at the screen. “You good at it?” 

“I wouldn’t say that,” Kenma admitted. “I still get hit around a lot, if I lose my concentration.” He wanted it to end there, or else. Kuroo was incredibly close and Kenma felt like the slightest breath of his would disturb him. 

“Tell me more,” the alpha requested. “Like, how is it a good game? It’s just,” he made a circle with his fingers in the air. “Hunting monsters over and over, right?”

“That’s what it’s called, so it’s expected. But,” Kenma took a breath, “it’s good because the game makes the grind satisfying, and not tiring. The AI’s are amazing because each monster feels very unique with an incredible variety of moves and reactions, even for the subspecies. They’re not unpredictable, but if you lose your focus they can just combo you to death. The hitboxes are clean as well, and the I-frames are difficult to master but not impossible. It’s really satisfying to achieve and try to ‘master’ a monster. They won’t act the same each time because it also responds to what the player does. And you’re encouraged to complete or mix sets of armor to give yourself specific buffs to adjust to your play style...” 

Kenma trailed off and stopped there. “Sorry, I-I rambled.” He stuttered.

To his surprise, Kuroo shook his head. “No, no, it was interesting! You really know your way around your stuff, huh? That’s cool. When I play video games I don’t pay attention, y’know? I just try to rack up points. Can you take me through a mission? Just show me your favorite monster to hunt.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Kuroo of all people, interested in his game and asking more from him. Kenma scratched his neck a few times. “W-well, if you insist,” he said softly. He did as requested, taking Kuroo through a mission with a high-ranking Nargacuga. He realized Kuroo kind of looked like it, the resemblance coming from the jet-black fur, cat-like appearance, and yellowish eyes. Quickly, Kenma hunted it down, skillfully dodging the rapid sweeping attacks, returning the favor with his longsword, and taking full advantage of the invincibility frames between the animations to avoid taking damage at the last second. 

By the end of it, he had achieved a record of slaying it just under 5 minutes. 

“Is that good?” Kuroo said, pointing at the time. A silver crown appeared next to the monster’s in-game size, signifying it was the second-largest Nargacuga Kenma had fought. 

“Yeah, a hunt can take from 15 to 30 minutes, depending on your equipment and how well you play. I was using same-ranked equipment, so it was easier.” 

“You were untouchable there! _You’re_ really cool.”

“You think so…?” Kenma felt hot around his neck. He didn’t have much experience being complimented over playing games. 

“Hell yeah!” He gleamed. Kenma looked away, his heart beating like he had just run a marathon. 

Kuroo rubbed his chin. “Hey, if you like games so much, why don’t you use the entertainment room?” 

“I… I didn’t think I could,” Kenma admitted. 

Kuroo smiled. The alpha reached over slowly and pat him on the head. “Don’t be like that, Kenma. This is your house too.”

The blonde blinked. It was that simple to Kuroo. He nodded, letting the hand weigh on his head. “I’ll think about it. I’m okay right now, Kuro.” 

Now, the alpha was observing him. Well, more of the handheld Kenma was tapping on. “Say, that’s a PSP right?” 

“Yeah.”

“Hmm. I think you’ll like this. Give me a sec,” he stood up and crossed over to the stairs. Kuroo took two stairs at a time and was gone and back quite quickly, owed to his legs and stamina no doubt. He carried a box which Kenma perked up at the sight of.

Kuroo handed it to him. “Bokuto got me this. Well, he forgot it at my house and I don’t play games much anymore. It’s yours now!” 

At first he was hesitant, then he took it while struggling to keep his face from breaking out into a grin by biting his tongue. He opened the box quickly, and inside was a near-mint-condition Nintendo Switch. Kenma’s heart was swelling; he didn’t know if he should even _touch_ it, let alone _play_ it, but there Kuroo was, encouraging him to do so. He pressed the on button, booting up the screen. 

“There’s a couple of games loaded there already, I think. Y’know, Zelda? Uh, Inksplat, and Mario-something.” 

“Kuro,” Kenma turned to him. For that one moment, he finally met Kuroo’s eyes. “Thank you. H-how do I repay…” 

Kuroo stopped him with a hand and shook his head. “Use it, that’s how. No need to pay me in cash, I’m not _that_ heartless. But I _am_ a heartbreaker~” 

The blonde snorted. “Was it your mom’s?” 

For a full second, the alpha’s expression darkened. Kenma wished he had shut his mouth, even when Kuroo’s smirk returned.

“Now who taught you how to speak like that? This is why you don’t have too many friends, Kenma~” Kuroo snickered. Kenma frowned. 

Now they had both pressed on a sore spot.

The air between them quickly turned stale. So much for that interaction. Kenma wanted to go back inside his room and permanently bury himself under the blankets. The Switch in his hands was as heavy as lead. It was going so well, and he had to ruin it. They had been getting along well enough for him to talk more than one sentence at a time, and now it was likely he’d never try anything like that again, not in the immediate future. He wanted to say something, to apologize, but it was as if his throat had closed up, barring the words from their exit. 

Kuroo’s expression was unreadable. It’s like his eyes were staring off at the far distant corners room, his jaw clenched tightly. 

Silence. And it was unbearable. The distance between their bodies was painfully obvious to Kenma who by now, had discovered his fondness for cornering himself off and then having no exits later. He couldn’t go upstairs and risk offending the alpha further, and he was already dreading the next day, if the situation would keep like this, their words brimming in their chest yet they keep it from spilling. He didn’t know what or how to go about it. 

“Sorry.” 

Kenma snapped his head at Kuroo, who had apologized first. 

He sighed. “Made it awkward, didn’t I? And I shouldn’t have retaliated.” 

He shook his head. “I made the joke first. It my fault. I deserved it.” It was true, and he was glad to have said it. 

Relentlessly bouncing back from anything, Kuroo reached over and pet his head again, this time ruffling a few hairs. Kenma let him. 

“You’re so uptight with yourself. Let me take the blame here. After all, I _was_ the one who caused this situation. Y’know, the contract.” he said. 

It was a strange thing to hear from an alpha. To let _them_ take the blame. So Kenma let himself get pat, and retreated his argument, relishing something so small like this. “Okay Kuro. If you say so.” 

“That’s it, Kenma~” The alpha was smiling once again. And just like that, Kuroo had restored the atmosphere. Kenma was envious of how words and actions came to Kuroo so easily, be it to apologize for things, calm people down, or designate nicknames between strangers. 

They settled back into whatever they were doing. Kenma and his games (the Switch, he’d mess with later), and Kuroo had switched from How It’s Made to Monsters Inside Me. Again, he was muttering chemicals and other terms Kenma couldn’t ever hope to remember. He could only guess they were either body parts or some sort of biological reaction. The way he could be so engrossed in this show, mutter alongside it was interesting enough for Kenma to put his game down and watch. Tonight’s episode was about a man who had been diagnosed with a pork tapeworm in his eyeball. On the screen, a CGI tapeworm was swimming through the bloodstream.

“Proglottid… Tail-like. Carries organs of tapeworm…” The alpha shivered. “Gross…” 

Kenma had to ask: “Is this… All you do when you get home?” 

To his surprise, Kuroo flinched and scratched his cheek as he attempted to explain himself. “Well… I do other things, too.” 

“Like?”

“Like… read and research.” Kuroo’s eyes were roaming everywhere. 

Kenma kept his silence, urging him to continue as Kuroo did to him earlier. 

“Okay fine, they’re I just keep studying, ‘kay? _Just_ chem or bio stuff.” Kuroo admitted, purposefully turning his face away. 

“Nerd.” Kenma remarked. 

“...Gamer.” Kuroo scoffed. 

After a pause came their laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to owe the length of this chapter to the fact that Kenma and I play Monster Hunter... We are all gamers in this house..... 
> 
> As usual, thank you for all the support!! Every new kudos and comment I get motivates the updates!! (That, and Kuroken love <3) We have about 2 more chapters until Bokuto's Intermission, which would advance the BokuAka part of the story! Hopefully that makes up for the fact Akaashi hasn't been mentioned all RIP (but I will fix that in the next chapter!!) 
> 
> Twitter/Tumblr: @danmujiji


	10. Panic and Waffles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma's day starts off stressful, but it ends with a pretty good meal of waffles.

Despite Kuroo having been home the past two days and getting along with him on a decent level, Kenma had been feeling more restless. He assumed it was mostly based on the fact Bokuto and Akaashi were visiting that day. _Mostly._ There was another issue. 

For two whole days he was finding sleep increasingly difficult. Returning to his room was supposed to be a blessing and not a curse, yet the moment he tucked himself into the sheets, the urge to sleep would completely vanish. Kenma would toss and turn over the bed, scroll through his phone for a bit, and even pace around for a few minutes at a time. None of which would bring him any closer unless he was extremely tired. Only then would sleep catch him off guard, pulling him into the darkness of slumber. It was short-lived, however. At around 6 or 7AM, without fail, he’d jolt awake to the strong and thick scent of Kuroo in the air. He’d remain on his bed trembling like an animal, a pillow stuck firmly between his legs and a fierce determination not to get up and investigate, or touch himself. For ten whole minutes he’d be gripping the sheets, and then the scent would mysteriously disappear. Only then would he fall back asleep.

He knew damn well the cause, but he wasn’t going to go downstairs and check. He could keep up this waiting game forever, he thought. There is absolutely no reason why he’d want to go downstairs at ass-o’clock and risk encountering Kuroo, even if his body was begging him to go downstairs and take in more of the pheromones. He had enough, he said. 

He wouldn’t go down, he said. 

Well that morning, when the scent hit his nostrils he practically jumped out of his bed while inhaling deeply, the chocolate smell enticing and warm like a cup of hot cocoa in the morning. Kenma was sniffing at the air desperately, because in the back of his head he knew it wouldn’t last. 

_‘Don’t disappear,_ he begged it. _‘I need…’_

Need, need, need. Kenma was surprised at how fast he moved. He slipped outside, tiptoeing so carefully and sticking close to the walls to reduce noise. Slowly, he made his way downstairs, ducking behind furniture and walls in case he’d bump into Kuroo. It was like a stealth mission, except his urges _wanted_ him to be found but _he_ didn’t.

It only intensified as he neared the source of the smell. He had to cover his nose firmly to block out most of the smell. If he didn’t, he doubt he’d be standing.

As he neared the source of the smell, it got even worse. 

Kenma could barely walk straight now, and had to drag himself alongside a wall to keep upright. Each step was an effort not to pass out as chocolate filled his senses, pushing him into a strange, hazy state. His head was light, like his brain had been replaced with a cloud, and his feet were like a pair of lead weights dragging across the floor. And yet, his eyes were starkly clear but unfocused, flitting from here and there, trying to find the source. He approached a corner and leaned against it. Kenma took a shaky breath and held it before he looked. 

Kuroo was there, leaning against the white marble counter as usual; folded newspaper in hand, coffee in the other. His eyes went back and forth over the paper, readings its contents, occasionally taking a sip of coffee. Each time he finished sipping, his mouth would make a little noise like he was tutting softly. It was just like every day. 

Except for his shirt.

Instead of it being on his body like a normal person, his shirt was draped over his shoulders, exposing his bare and sweaty chest which was more lightly-colored than his arms. The alpha was toned. He had well-defined muscles which gave Kenma the impression Kuroo had a lot of upper-body strength. Not to mention his legs, which had more of them exposed than last time; his running shorts were practically clinging to his skin; the fabric defining them against the white counter. It seemed suffocating, or was Kenma the one who just wouldn't breathe? 

The funny thing was, Kenma never thought or saw another person's body like this. He could process the individual parts such as the bicep that curled whenever Kuroo raised the cup to his lips, or the neck muscles that would shift as his mouth curled from reading something on the paper, but it was impalpable as a whole. His eyes wouldn’t stop darting from part to part, all too focused on one thing before switching away to settle on for another for the briefest of moments, as if in tune with his heartbeat which was beating so hard his head began to hurt. 

Kenma’s head was hot, but his feet were utterly cold.

He was frozen there from behind the corner until Kuroo met his eyes and promptly choked on his coffee. Kuroo put the cup and newspaper down while he coughed it out. 

“Ken--” he sputtered while beating on his chest, “--ma, how long have you been standing there?!” He had tears in his eyes. Some of the coffee had spilled and was dripping all over his forearm. 

Suddenly, Kenma’s throat went dry. He shook his head. 

“Wha- What’s that supposed to mean?” 

He couldn’t speak. Kuroo began to approach him, looking concerned. Then, as if remembering something, he stopped and backed away from him. His expression changed from concern to something unreadable. Kuroo brought a hand to his face, gripping it. 

“...You should go.” he growled, holding tightly the edge of a counter, his knuckles white. 

Kenma shuddered. And yet he remained where he stood; hot, cold, afraid, and perplexed as to why he was there, shaking his head. 

“I-I need…” He stepped out from the corner, shaking like a leaf. He pointed at the alpha. 

_”Need what?”_ He responded through grit teeth. Kuroo took a step forward. 

Kenma could feel Kuroo seething. The scent had turned spicier, prickling his nose like pepper and it was choking his nose and throat. They both stood there across each other, their eyes locked and waiting for somebody to make a move. To determine what happens next. 

Without warning Kuroo threw his shirt at Kenma, who barely caught it. The omega nodded at the alpha and without a single word, turned around and ran back upstairs with newfound adrenaline, slamming the door shut and locking it. 

His heart was pounding; an uncontrollable mess. By some instinct, he pressed the shirt to his face and inhaled deeply. It was still damp, but so very, _very_ Kuroo. The scent was intoxicating at full strength and he was greedily huffing it all in. Now the world seemed sharper, brighter, and and louder. The colors of the room were turning vivid; his own heartbeat deafening. His skin was covered in goosebumps.

It was scary. 

Somehow he knew it was going to be okay, comforted by the scent of ‘his’ alpha, which his body was taking quite well. He hadn’t flung the shirt away this time. Quite the opposite, because he was clutching it so hard against face. Kenma was smoldering throughout. The rush from running upstairs had gone but his heart was still beating, blood pumping, and he was hard. 

Flustered, hot, breathless, hard. 

Kenma reached down to confirm. He jolted, surprised at his own touch. It was no illusion made up in his head. He gulped, slipping his trembling fingers past the waist of his sweatpants. Hot fingers slid against his hip bone, sending more tremors throughout his body. Slowly, he reached for himself, trying to focus on alleviating it, rather than the cause: Kuroo, shirtless outside, who had finally shown a reaction to his pheromones. Somehow it was a victory, but a he had also taken an insurmountable loss-- because he was stroking himself, and he wouldn’t ever forget he did.

Of course, like all of cruel fate’s plans, Kenma didn’t deserve relief just yet. 

His phone rang. It was Akaashi. 

Kenma jerked his hand away from himself, with the same expression a boy would while being caught by a parent. His hand was sticky, and he felt a wave of embarrassment, effectively undoing his arousal because then, all the blood went to his face instead. 

Quickly, he rinsed his hands, scrubbing them well until they were red and called Akaashi back. 

“H-hello.” He said. He bit his lip, hoping he didn’t sound awkward. Especially after _that_ happened.

 _“Kozume. I’m with Mr. Bokuto right now,”_

“Oh. Okay.” 

_“I’m calling to say we’re finishing up at work and we will be there in an hour.”_ Akaashi stated. 

“Okay.” He replied, his mind still fresh on what he did. He inhaled slowly, trying to get the blush off his face at least. 

_“Is something wrong?”_

Kenma sighed. “Just tired. See you.” He hung up.

He should take a shower. A really, really cold shower. 

\---  


He emerged out of his room thirty minutes later, patched with three scent repressors, dressed in a pair of jeans as formalities (better than greeting them in his sweats at least) and because he was still cold from his shower, he wore a jacket. 

Despite all his layers, it never got rid of his cold feet as he returned downstairs. Yet again he couldn’t stay in his room, even if he wanted to. Kuroo’s shirt was there, shoved deep underneath all of his clothes, like a secret if he were to revisit would surely and endlessly remind him of his earlier humiliation. He shook the thought from his head. 

By the work of the devil who engineered the worst coincidences in his life, Kenma encountered Kuroo as he reached the bottom stair. Like the enigma he was, the alpha was scentless once again, all chocolate aroma seemingly vaporized and replaced by the smell of soap. His hair was slightly damp, though that barely affected the messy spikes they were in and he had changed his clothing as well, adopting a casual added by his hairstyle and his usual half-lidded expression. He waved at Kenma but didn’t approach. 

“Yo. Bo and Akaashi’re coming here soon. You good?” 

Kenma didn’t want to answer that. So he nodded while glancing away. 

“Cool,” said Kuroo. A pause, and then “so earlier--”

“Don’t.” Kenma cut in firmly. 

Kuroo blinked; the omega’s tone putting a wide-eyed expression on his face. “...Gotcha.” 

Kenma walked to the couch and sat down at his corner, pulling out his phone and playing games on it. Kuroo sat at the furthest edge of the L, turning on the TV to a documentary of the ancient Mongolian empire. While the narrator went on about Genghis Khan’s father dying, Kuroo spoke up. 

“...So remember when you called me a nerd?” 

The blonde momentarily glanced at him, then back at his screen. “Mn.”

“Right, so I decided to pick up working out again.” 

_‘Again? He stopped?’_ Kenma let out a slow exhale, which came out like a soft hiss. “You don’t say.” 

“Didn’t think you’d wake up that early,” he reasoned. 

As if that was an excuse. “I’ve been waking up early for two days.” Kenma told him. 

“Ah,” Kuroo rubbed his neck. “My bad, my bad. It gets _reeaaal_ bad when I’ve worked up a sweat, but I’ll be considerate next time.” 

The alpha said ‘real bad’ like the strength of his pheromones were somehow always ‘bad’, contributing further to the mystery. Could he turn it on and off like a switch? Was there something else controlling it? Kenma didn’t respond to what he said. He’d believe it when he’d wake up after a full night’s rest. 

In the background of their silence, Genghis Khan was sweeping over China. 

The first text came from Kenma. 

Akaashi: _We will arrive in 5 minutes._

The beta was straightforward as usual, and Kenma expected it. What he didn’t expect was the following spike of anxiety hitting him from the next text.  
Akaashi: _He’s excited. I don’t think I can hold him back._

Kenma gulped. He heard about the times when Bokuto was excited from one of Akaashi’s numerous drunken tirades. Bokuto was already loud enough as it is, but topped with stimuli and energy, he heard that he would even go so far as to tackle something on sight. No way could Kenma’s bones withstand that. In fact he felt sometimes his neck would snap under the weight of Kuroo’s petting. A tackle would be a critical hit against an level one enemy. It would definitely kill him, he decided. Akaashi wasn’t being very comforting either by telling him he couldn’t hold the guy back. 

Well, it was a beta against an alpha. 

Kenma whipped his head to Kuroo. 

_‘Would he, though?’_

He didn’t have time to think about it when he heard a car pull up the driveway. Not even 10 seconds passed when car doors were slammed. One very loudly, and another much quieter. Kenma and Kuroo stood up at the same time. Kuroo looked tensed from where Kenma was. His broad back seemed stiff like he was expecting something. An impact. 

It happened. The doors flung open, followed by the loudest voice Kenma had ever heard. At the doorway were two men clad in business attire: one a close friend, and another a demon horned with two black-gray spikes of hair. Kenma picked up the lightest forest-y smell. It didn’t affect him. 

_“Hey, hey, hey!!!”_ Bokuto grinned from ear to ear. “We’re here! Where is he, Kuroo~?”

The other alpha kicked off his shoes with ease, leaving Akaashi to rearrange them neatly by the door.

“Please pardon us,” Akaashi greeted and bowed, partly blocked out by the alpha’s shouting. 

Bokuto squinted, scanning his surroundings. He visibly brightened when his eyes passed over Kuroo, but continued looking for Kenma. Like an owl, his eyes widened spotting their prey and he began to charge. 

Kuroo stepped up. He knew what was coming. “Hey, Bo-” 

Kenma wanted to back away and run, but he felt like moving would make him visible. Right now, he was relying on escaping Bokuto’s field of sight by using Kuroo as a shield. Unfortunately he was spotted. He braced his body for impact-- or death. Currently, it made no difference from the way Bokuto began running at him. 

“There you are!” He yelled again, hurting Kenma’s ears.  
Kuroo caught him in mid-run so effortlessly, using his arm as a barrier, before pulling Bokuto into a bear-hug. “Oi, oi~ Didn’t I tell you last night to be gentle?” Kuroo smirked. Kenma couldn’t tell from behind Kuroo, but did the alpha just use a seductive tone?

 _‘What.’_ Kenma glanced at Akaashi who shook his head. He read what Kenma was thinking. 

Kuroo righted Bokuto up, who had calmed down significantly. His voice remained at that volume though, which still miffed the omega. He was glancing at Kenma like he was expecting him to say something, or greet him properly. Kenma wouldn’t, because he felt like engaging with him would turn into an endless affair. 

“So that’s him! Man, omegas are really small huh?” He said, rubbing his chin. “How tall are you?” he asked, pointing directly at him. 

“Mr. Bokuto, it’s rude to point.” Akaashi reminded, approaching him. 

“Yeah, Bo, where are your manners? Lost them in that big head of yours?” Kuroo snorted, while Bokuto scowled at him. 

“Ehhh? Is that how you talk to your friends, Kuroo?” He grumbled, gesturing at himself with his hands.

Ever the provocateur, Kuroo could change things up at the drop of a hat. “Oya~? ‘Friends’, is that _all_ we are~?”

But they were friends for a reason, and Bokuto hit back quite easily, “Why don’t you show me what we are, then~?” 

They burst out in loud, obnoxious laughter, immediately clearing whatever… ‘tension’ that was between them. Kenma was staring dumbfounded at Akaashi who had his eyes shut throughout the encounter. He was breathing in and out slowly, his eyes twitching slightly under his eyelids. When he opened them again, Akaashi exuded nothing but calmness; indifference. 

_’Oh, so they’re just like this. What a pain to deal with…’_ Kenma thought to himself. He wished he could speed up time so he didn’t have to see this. Bokuto, as a concept, was already tiring enough to comprehend but with Kuroo they were absolutely unbearable. They kept shooting insults, compliments, flirtations and it was all so difficult to keep up with. 

The only good thing was that Kuroo was diverting the attention from him. He was feeding all the information to Bokuto without Kenma having to say a word. Bokuto took it all in like Kuroo was the mother hen feeding a baby chick. 

Kenma bit his cheek to stop himself from chuckling. _‘Rooster head,_ he only thought of it now how Kuroo’s hairstyle stuck out like a rooster. Then he remembered this morning, and he let out a small huff. 

“Ah, you guys go sit over there,” Kuroo pointed over at the dining area. “We’ll catch up,” 

He didn’t like that, but Kenma started moving anyway. Akaashi followed him. Once they sat down, Kuroo and Bokuto left through the main door.

“Couldn’t they… just leave?” said Kenma, wondering why they even had to sit away in the first place. 

Akaashi pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “It was probably Bokuto. They don’t mind talking around me, but sometimes they go off on their own.”

“Ah,” Kenma nodded. “Are they…?” 

“No,” the beta answered, “they really are just like that. It was difficult to tell at first, but they don’t seem the type to go sneaking around if they actually got together.” 

They looked at each other. 

Akaashi said it first. “...Well, they _could_ actually be…”

Kenma shook his head. “Actually, I think, if they were… Bokuto would have killed me already.” 

“He kind of looked like that earlier,” Akaashi said. 

“Kuro stopped him, though.”

Akaashi’s look lingered. “That’s right. Otherwise, you’d be something like a third-wheel-for-hire.” 

“...I should pull out of the agreement,” Kenma grunted, though he was only partly considering it. Partly. 

Akaashi stared at him and sighed. “I still don’t get why you accepted it.”

Kenma looked away. “The truth is...” he began.

The doors burst open again, followed by a quick reprimand from Kuroo. 

“Stop trying to break my doors, you birdbrain! Hey you two, we’re eating out!” Kuroo called to them. The alpha flinched when Akaashi glared. “Hey now, what’s with that look? It’s like I just cut in line in front of you or something.” 

“Kuroo, Akaashi does that when you’ve interrupted something!” Bokuto chirped behind him.

“Did I? Well, sorry.” He apologized. 

Akaashi waved a hand. “It’s alright. You don’t have to apologize.” 

“Yeah,” Kuroo said, “but I want to. Don’t let people walk all over ya, ‘Kaashi.” 

Kenma was surprised Kuroo said that. Akaashi straightened up, and bowed gently.

“Thank you for your kind words, Mr. Kuroo,”

Bokuto was glaring at Kuroo. Before he could put contribute, they all got up and headed for the car. Kuroo was driving, twirling his car keys around his index finger as he got in. It was Kenma’s first time actually seeing the car. It was all black with red accents; a smooth vehicle with rounded headlights and some sort of… criss-cross grilles. Kenma stared at Kuroo who was beckoning them over. He thought that Kuroo must have a lot of money to be fooling around like this. He had a big house and a car, was well-connected, respected among his peers, and a leader of his own research group. 

There really was a great difference between their worlds, and Kenma was just hitched along. He gripped his fists in the pocket of his jacket. 

\--  


The car ride didn’t take long. Kuroo and Bokuto sat in front while Akaashi and Kenma at the back. Bokuto whined because he wasn’t sitting with Akaashi, turning around and trying to climb backseat with them. Kuroo nearly crashed the car because of the commotion and thus, Bokuto was subdued after a pinch to his cheek and a harsh reprimand.

He remained sulking throughout the trip, and Kenma just felt like he had dealt with a whole daycare. He caught Kuroo’s eye in the rear-view mirror. They both looked away so fast he wasn’t actually sure if they met or not. 

Bokuto brightened up the moment they got out of the car. Kenma didn’t recognize the area because it was in the B-blocks. He immediately felt out of place dressed so simply among the upper-class-looking folk with their fashionable clothes and accessories. He didn’t want to leave the car, no matter how hungry he’d get. In fact, he wanted to ask if he could just stay in, but they were already walking ahead towards a fancy-looking establishment. 

His throat closed up and his heart began to pulse. He didn’t want to go in there, with all those happy-looking, well-adjusted people inside. It was forbidden territory for the likes of him who grew up in meager and mediocre spaces. Kenma lagged behind as they walked, trying to slowly disappear into the background. He had his wallet, so maybe he could just try to lose them and take a train home, provided he didn’t get lost on the way. 

“Oi, Kenma!” Kuroo called out, beckoning him over. He had let Bokuto and Akaashi go ahead, and was waiting for him.

“K...Kuro,” he said, shuffling towards him. He tensed up as Kuroo touched his back, gently pushing him forward. 

“Don’t loiter around, Kenma. You’ll get lost like that. Do you even know where we are?” 

He shook his head. Kenma did not flee from his touch.

“We’re at B-8, around 14th Street, just in case. C’mon, let’s go. Bo and I know this real good place. You’re hungry, right?” 

“...Not really,” Kenma answered, maintaining his slow pace. Kuroo’s hand on his back felt warm. He remembered this morning and lowered his head away from Kuroo's vision.

“ You’ll get hungry when you get there, I promise,” he said. Kenma couldn't see but he sounded like he was grinning.

He had to doubt what Kuroo said, though. If it were a place like the upper-class restaurants lining the street, he really doubted he could get his stomach to stop eating itself instead. He was already imagining a place where crystal chandeliers hung from tall and painted ceilings, and waiters dressed like butlers who served food on silver platters. He analyzed his appearance while passing a brand store’s windowpane. Slouched, sloppy, and sagging, like looking at a banana turning black. 

He _really_ wanted to go back and hide in the car. 

After passing a few more outlets, then turned a corner and went down an alley wide enough for a car to pass through, but with chairs and tables lining the sides, undoubtedly for alley restaurants. Not much people were frequenting the place either, but this was because the restaurants and pubs weren’t open yet. Most of the windows dark. Kenma caught a few signs with the alpha, beta, and omega symbols. A few had the ‘omega’ crossed out. 

They went further than that, going into another alley. This one was about half the width as the first and they had to stick to one side of the street because the stores placed their chairs and tables on the other. They walked for a while, reaching the end of the alley. Kenma never noticed Kuroo had placed his hand on his shoulder now, not until he found himself turned towards a white door nearly hidden within a thick wall of green ivy. 

‘Cafe Hedera’ said the sign above the door. On the door itself, a tinier sign saying ‘Open’. Kuroo opened the door for him and they stepped inside. It was empty; it seemed like the cafe had just opened. Sticking true to the theme, Cafe Hedera was a deceptively large, the space filled with trails of ivy climbing up their brick walls and over their rafters. Bright light streamed in from wide windows which were seemingly obscured from the outside. 

_‘Maintenance here must be insane…’_ Kenma trailed off while staring up. Kuroo nudged him gently, bringing him along to their seat. 

“Wait,” Kenma said, pulling out his wallet. “My ID…”

He needed to show he was an omega to get proper seating.

Kuroo shook his head, holding Kenma’s hand and gently pushing the wallet back at him. “Nah, you don’t need that here,” he pointed at a separate seating area with walls surrounding it. 

Kenma couldn’t miss the sight of Bokuto sitting beside Akaashi. He was talking animatedly as usual, while the secretary was nodding along. Kenma sat across Akaashi, and Kuroo beside him, across Bokuto. 

“You guys order an’thing yet?” Kuroo asked. 

Bokuto nodded. “Yeah, I wanted to try their new dish! Let’s see…” He took the menu lying on the table, flipped to a page, and showed them a picture of a square-shaped pastry with eggs and ham.. “Here! The Gazette Bretonnes!”

Kuroo let out a laugh. “It’s ‘galette’, dummy!”

“Well ‘scuuuse me!” Bokuto harrumphed. “You order something French then!” 

“Don’t mind if I do~ You serve any French kisses?” He winked. He and Bokuto laughed again.

The quieter duo of the group were texting underneath the table. 

Akaashi: _I’m so sorry for the noise._

Kozume: _It’s not your fault_

Akaashi: _Is there anything you want to order?_

Kozume: _I don't know yet They have the menu_

Akaashi: _[sent 3 image files]_  
1951_02942.png  
1951_02943.png  
1951_02944.png 

It was the menu. He glanced up at Akaashi and nodded in thanks. His preparedness was something the omega greatly admired. Kenma scrolled through the images until he reached the desert section and zoomed in on the prices of the items. Each double-digit made him cringe internally until he saw they had apple waffles with _apple syrup._ It would have been perfect, but it cost a lot than what he’d usually pay for. 

Kozume: _I want something, but  
It’s too pricey_

Akaashi: _They’re paying for us today. Please don’t try to argue, or else they’ll try and show off._

 _‘Argh, I don’t want that. I don’t want them to talk to me._

Kozume: _Okay  
Apple waffles_

Akaashi: _Okay. I’ll mention it for you._

Again, he looked up and nodded in thanks. Akaashi was a good friend. Bokuto and Kuroo had settled down now, with the dark-haired man raising his hand to order. A waiter arrived not too long after: a man with average build and height, light gray hair, a mole under his left eye. He looked quite gentle. On his chest was a nametag-- Sugawara [β]. 

“Ah, Kuroo! And Bokuto, too!” Sugawara smiled. “You two dropped by again! And this one… Akaashi, correct?” 

“Yes, Mr. Sugawara,” Akaashi said. 

“Don’t be so stiff now! Just call me Suga! And who’s this?” Sugawara turned his attention to Kenma who bowed his head, using the fringes of his hair to shield himself from Sugawara’s gaze. 

“My new squeeze~” Kuroo answered. “Kenma, this is Suga. Suga, Kenma.” 

Kenma jolted when Kuroo referred to him as his ‘squeeze’. He remembered this morning; the shirtless Kuroo and the bedroom. Kenma coughed. “N-nice to meet you…” His voice came out, but barely. 

“Nice to meet you too! Wow, I never thought I’d live to see the day Kuroo would finally get himself a steady partner! I always thought your dream was to die a lonely old man!” Sugawara beamed. 

“Pfft,” Kenma snorted, turning away from them. He had to respect Suga for that.

Bokuto was laughing hard at Kuroo who seemed unfazed by this. Kenma saw a corner of his eye twitch. 

“Well, y’know how life is~ Sometimes fate just gets ya. Well, Suga, as you can see here, Kenma’s pretty shy, so let’s keep it under wraps for now. You can tell Daichi though,” 

Suga nodded. “Mhmm! Okay, back to business now! Anything I can get you?”

They told him their orders. Bokuto successfully said ‘galette bretonne’ while Kuroo got himself a salmon steak. Akaashi ordered a salad, and the apple waffles for Kenma. 

“Hey, hey, hey! You should eat more! Don’t get dessert for breakfast!” Bokuto piped up, pointing a finger at Kenma. Akaashi carefully folded his finger back into his fist and lowered his arm. 

“It’s rude to point, Mr. Bokuto.” He reminded. 

“Apple waffles… Oh no,” Suga looked worried. “I’m afraid we’ve run out of apple syrup. If you’d like, we can replace it with chocolate sauce or you can order something else.” 

“A-ah, no, it’s… okay. Chocolate syrup is okay.” Kenma said quietly. He was sure Suga had to figure out whatever he said from the way he turned his ear towards Kenma. He jotted down the change in order and promised them their meal would arrive in fifteen minutes. 

When it did, Kenma was hungry. He could smell the strong scent of the apple and cinnamon as Suga came to bring in their food. It was piping hot and looked golden and crunchy. Beside the plate was a small porcelain jug with a slightly curved spout filled with chocolate sauce. 

The meal went reasonably well. It was mostly Kuroo and Bokuto who talked, occasionally dragging Akaashi in to respond or help Bokuto with a word. For the most part they ignored him, the most of his anxiety alleviated when Kuroo reminded Bokuto to leave him alone to eat. 

“He's very frail so he needs to eat, Bocchan! Don’t disturb Kenma with your loud noise~” 

“Arghh, don’t call me that, it's embarrassing! Only the maids at home do that!” Bokuto huffed.

Kenma drizzled some chocolate over his waffles and ate it. The waffles crunched in his mouth.

It was better than he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting! I know there was a slight delay and I really wanted to put this out on Valentine's Day but I got held up by stuff :( This chapter had a LOT happening in it, and we finally meet some other characters! Suga was fun to write and he will be reappearing, as well as Daichi! 
> 
> Kudos and comments always appreciated! You guys shower me with so much praise so I'm always trying to get more out each time! Thank you!! 
> 
> Twitter/Tumblr: @danmujiji


	11. Groceries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma experiences something scary at the grocery store, then something sweet at home.

Kenma was woke up to gentle knocking on his door. 

Kuroo was calling from the other side. “Kenma? Kenma, get up.” 

He decided to ignore it, thinking that the alpha would probably go away if he did so long enough. It’s not like Kuroo would blast through his door, right? 

“Kenma. Kenma. Kenmaaaa...” 

Well instead, the knocking sped up into frantic rapping. Kuroo had turned from a rooster into a woodpecker, seemingly attempting to bore a hole into his door with his knuckles. Without a choice but to make a disgruntled noise and get up, Kenma eventually opened the door. Kuroo had both his fists lightly curled like a cat’s, explaining how he could knock against a door so annoyingly. 

“What.” He said, glowering at the alpha. His eyes were already threatening to squeeze shut. As usual, Kuroo was unfazed with that smirk of his. 

“‘Bout time you got up. We’re out of food, so we’re going out for groceries. Wash up and we’ll leave in thirty minutes.” 

The omega let out a long sigh. He blinked himself awake but still felt quite groggy, unlike Kuroo who was already dressed. He felt Kuroo pet his head. Very slightly, Kenma lifted his head to meet it.

“Hey now, you can’t miss out on this. We’re living together, so we need to pick up on dietary habits. I noticed that...” 

There he went again, talking about scientific things in the morning. Kenma drowned most of it out, nodding off even with the hand on his head. He was already sliding off the doorframe when Kuroo finished. Something about nutrients, dexa...holographic acid, or something. When he left to ready some other things, Kenma managed to stumble into the bathroom and take a shower.

When he was all washed up and dressed, Kuroo was waiting for him. They got in the car and drove off. Kenma sat in front, the seatbelt firmly over him, both on Kuroo’s insistence. At the very least he could close his eyes and rest against the seat. 

“Oi Kenma, pay attention to where we’re going. You could get lost again.” 

He mumbled back, “Google maps,” and Kuroo made a noise which implied ‘well you're not wrong’. 

Twenty minutes later the car came to a stop. Kuroo had parked the car in front of a large grocery store Kenma had been in one of these a few times, but the last time was with his parents. When he went off alone, smaller stores became the norm for him. He stuck to Kuroo’s side while he pushed the cart along. 

“‘Kay, if there’s anything you want, don’t hesitate to take it. It’s on me,” the alpha said. Kenma nodded, though he was sure he probably wouldn’t get anything. 

They went through the aisles in an orderly fashion. It was mostly Kuroo doing the shopping anyway, so Kenma was fine tagging along. Within a couple minutes, he had already pulled out his phone and was playing a game. Eventually he’d come to notice just how long Kuroo took while deciding on items. He’d take a look at the selections, evaluating them with his tongue sticking out from the side of his lip in concentration.

 _‘Eh? That long to decide on the brand?_ He wasn’t particularly annoyed with it, he just thought it was an interesting observation. 

Once Kuroo narrowed down his choices to two or three things, he’d compare them by reading the back label, muttering some chemicals or something again. Occasionally he’d squint like he remembered something, then place his item in the cart. The same thing went for fresh produce. Kuroo was closely inspecting everything he came across, holding them under scrutiny before gently placing them in the cart. It was slowly filling up with all sorts of food items, all of which Kenma hadn’t chosen, and very much outside his pre-contract diet. There were all sorts of fruits, vegetables, meats, and other produce that Kuroo was disgustingly healthy, he decided. No wonder he could keep his body in shape like that. Muscles and all. 

He froze in place. 

Kuroo stopped pushing the cart. “Kenma? You want something?”

He shook his head immediately. 

“You sure? Nothing at all?” 

He shook his head again, grabbing something from a nearby shelf and putting it in the couch. It was a box of sweet curry mix. 

Kuroo snorted and chuckled. “What is it, really? Good choice in curry though. Anything else you _don’t_ want?” 

The omega frowned. “Not really. I haven’t seen anything I want yet.” 

“Yeah, you weren’t looking at me this morning at all~” The alpha remarked with a smirk. “Just kidding,” he added right after. “But really, is there _anything_ at all you want to eat?” 

“I don’t… Like to eat.” Kenma admitted. 

“No shit,” Kuroo snickered. “So far the only thing consistent in my book are apples. You can’t live on just ‘apple’, Kenma.” 

He wanted to argue that for a whole week, he actually did live on some apples his neighbor gave him before. It wasn’t fun nor was it a filling diet, but he _did_ do it. “...Challenge mode,” he murmured. 

Kuroo stared at him looking perplexed. “Huh? ‘Challenge mode’? Go outside for once, you _gamer!”_ Kuroo sneered, sticking his tongue out at Kenma.

“...We _are_ outside.”

“That’s not the point here,” Kuroo reached over and poked the top of his head repeatedly. “My point is, you’re not eating right, s’why you’re so short and twiggy~” 

Kenma swung his foot and kicked Kuroo in the back of his knees. The alpha cursed, teetered for a bit, then righted himself.

Kuroo had nothing but a grin on his face, as if pleased Kenma was retaliating. “Oya oya, say no to violence! Such a brute, Kenma~” 

He grunted back in annoyance. At the very least he was glad Kuroo could keep joking like that, reminding him that if it weren’t the alpha, he’d probably get in trouble for kicking people in the knees. Actually, he was surprised Kuroo even allowed it. Well, he truly didn’t appear to be the type to get mad over something like a kick. Hearing him curse was reassuring in its own way. Kenma walked along, his eyes still glued to his phone. 

Before he knew it, he was alone. Perhaps he had stopped moving a few aisles ago, and Kuroo moved on? He turned his head to look for the familiar spiky hair but found nothing resembling that nearby. Kenma felt irked he couldn’t find it because it was arguably one of the more attention-grabbing aspects of Kuroo, not to mention his tall height. He should be a walking signpost saying ‘I’m Here!’ with a mess of hair on top of a tall person, but ironically nowhere to be found. Kenma decided to walk a couple more aisles just to check, but there was still no sight of him. 

The feeling was immediate: a strong sense of dread and longing came back to hold him. Kenma found it hard to swallow, his pulse began to race, and he began to shake lightly as he looked to and fro. 

A voice called out to him. Kenma flinched. 

“Hey you! You’re looking a little lost there,” It came from a man. Taller than Kenma, and broad-shouldered. Alpha. He looked concerned and was approaching the omega. “I’m not trying to hurt you, now.” 

Kenma shook his head. “I-I’m fine,” he stammered out, waving a hand, partly as a nervous gesture, partly to shoo the man away. 

The man did not look discouraged. He grabbed Kenma’s arm. “You’re not, look! You’re shaking like a leaf here!” He starts tugging him forward. “C’mon, I’ll get you to a place to calm down…” 

Kenma pulled his arm back to no avail. The grip was strong, so strong it hurt his wrist more than anything. He shook his head, trying to form coherent sentences, something-- _anything_ to let this man know he didn’t want to go. He tried to breathe in, maybe call for help, but all he was met was the unpleasant odor that made his head swirl. He felt acid crawl up his throat. 

Suddenly they stopped. Kenma nearly stumbled over. The man let his wrist go and Kenma jerked it to his chest, rubbing the aching wrist. Ahead of them was Kuroo who had put aside the shopping cart and was storming up to the stranger. The intense scent in the air told him everything. Sourness was rapidly fading, replaced by something else more familiar, yet foreign all the same. Heavy, bitter, and overpowering. 

Complete and utter animosity. 

Kuroo wore an intense expression Kenma had never seen. The alpha stopped a foot away from the stranger. Kuroo was taller. 

_“Move.”_

The other alpha practically jumped out of the way. Kuroo made his way to Kenma. “Kenma,” he murmured, tone free of all aggression. He pulled the omega close into a hug. Kenma was all too grateful to wrap his arms around him, breathing in comfort, security. 

“Tch!” The other alpha tutted. “Don’t leave your unclaimed bitch lying around.” He muttered. 

Kuroo glanced at the man's direction. He stroked the omega’s cheek. “Sorry, give me a sec?” Kuroo broke their embrace, turned around and quickly closed the distance between them, before delivering a strong blow to his face. Kenma jumped. He was sure the whole grocery heard it; the impact of a fist against skin. The loud ‘smack’ followed by a body crashing to against a shelf. Produce clattering to the floor. A man’s voice moaning low in pain. 

Kenma jolted when Kuroo turned around. “K-Kuro…” 

“Let’s pay up,” he said quickly, before Kenma could say anything. Kenma let it go and nodded, sticking closer to him as they fetched their cart. He looked back at stranger’s crumpled body, somehow finding comfort that they wouldn’t suffer consequences. Alphas defending their omegas were common cases; a part of daily life the law was willing to ignore. 

Kuroo snaked his hand around his shoulder, gently directing his head forward. “Kenma, don’t look at garbage. It’ll ruin your eyes.” 

Despite all of that, Kuroo could somehow lift his mood. Even if it was just the tiniest fraction. He didn’t mind that Kuroo had inadvertently pulled their bodies closer with his hand rested on Kenma’s shoulder and the omega allowing the warmth; prickling, the reactions of their skin only inches apart. 

\---

After they loaded up the bags and strapped themselves in, they sat in there in silence. Kenma fidgeted in his seat. He felt like he should say something but instead he was looking at his shoes: scuffed, dirty, and worn out. Eventually, Kuroo started the car. The engine sputtered to life and the alpha put his hands on the steering wheel. Red marks were all over his right hand’s knuckles. 

He had to.

“Kuro, It…” It was difficult to form the words, much less say them. Kenma forced them out anyway. “It was my fault. I should have been paying attention.”

The alpha looked at him, flabbergasted. “That’s the most you’ve ever said in a sentence that wasn't related to games, you know?” 

Kenma frowned at him. Now wasn't the time for jokes. 

“Don’t waste your words on something that wasn’t your fault,” Kuroo added after watching his expression. “He was a creep. He _deserved_ it.” 

He was undeterred. “But your hand…” 

The alpha inspected his hand like he had a manicure. “Oh this? This ain’t anything. My skin is oh-so delicate, so punching stubbly baddies like that breaks my skin easily. Like I said Kenma, say no to violence~” 

The omega didn’t know how to respond to that. He was still convinced it was somehow his fault, and that he had to make up for it. He knit his brows together, trying to think of something to say. Kuroo then, activated his annoying skill of great timing. 

“Look, don’t sweat it. The guy got what he deserved, we got our groceries, and most importantly, you’re safe.” He insisted. 

“That’s like… Saying ‘don’t be shy’ in class. It doesn’t help anyone.” The omega mumbled at him. 

Kuroo rubbed the back of his neck and brushed his non-injured hand over his fringe. “Fine, fine. You want to make us even?”

Kenma nodded, albeit with some hesitation. 

“There’s some alcohol spray in the glovebox. I don’t want this to get infected so, if you would do the honors, please?” He presented his hand like he was waiting for it to be kissed. He probably was, because he was grinning. 

Like he said, there was an alcohol spray in the glovebox. He took it out and slipped his hand underneath Kuroo’s to support it. Their palms were warm together. Kenma ignored it. He spritzed some alcohol over the wound. The alpha jerked his hand as soon as the spray hit. 

“Oooh, ouch, ouch, that stiiiings…” He waved the hand around. “Actually, I think the trunk door’s still open,” he mentioned, out of the blue. He slipped outside,a bit more hasty than usual.

Kenma blinked in confusion. He thought it was such an odd thing to say, especially when he was sure they had close it properly earlier. He heard the click of the trunk open, so he looked at the rear view mirror. When Kuroo slammed the trunk down, Kenma saw his face was red. Possibly redder than his knuckles, but he wasn’t sure, and it was very unlikely. Kuroo hurried back, but when he re-entered, the color on his face was gone.

Perhaps Kenma just imagined it. 

They had a quiet drive back. Kenma couldn't stop thinking about what had happened. He had let his guard down in a new place and was immediately put in a situation like that. He was lucky Kuroo had caught them. It turned his stomach over to think about the what-if's. What if Kuroo wasn't there? What if there was more than one? What if he had just paid attention in the first place? What if Kuroo couldn't take the guy? He knew it was stupid to think about things that had already happened and he wondered if he was some sort of masochist too, putting himself through such mental agony. 

As if Kuroo was reading his thoughts, the alpha reached over and ruffled his hair. “You look like you're thinking too hard again,” 

“...Mmm.” Kenma replied, tilting his head up to the touch.

“We'll talk about it when we get home, ‘kay?” 

Oh no, Kenma didn't want that. He shook his head, and Kuroo's hand off. “N-no.”

“What do you mean ‘no’? Clearly, there was an issue, right?”

He really didn't want to. He felt like talking about this was like forcibly prying him open. But Kuroo was insistent. 

“Look, look. I know you're socially awkward,” he started.

Kenma felt like Kuroo had just stabbed him. He held his tongue.

“But this discussion is uh… shit,” he cursed. He had somewhat of an unseasy expression. Was he, _Kuroo,_ finding it difficult to say something? “Agh, whatever, we're talking when we get home. Hard to talk when you're driving…” he trailed off, muttering.  
\---  
When they reached home and all the groceries had been put away, Kenma and Kuroo were at the dining table, sitting across from each other. It was silent and Kenma desperately wanted to go back to his room. A thousand thoughts were already racing through his head underneath his poker-faced expression.

Kuroo broke the tension first. He clapped his hands together to call his attention. “So like I was saying earlier Kenma, you're not good with people, so you're maybe not going to like this,”

Was he about to get kicked out? He swallowed.

“Based on the thing earlier,” he made air quotations, “our current mode of marking isn't quite cutting it.”

Kenma exhaled, relieved it wasn't an eviction. He should really stop thinking it's a possibility when he has the contract.

“So,” Kuroo coughed politely, looking away, “what I'm suggesting is, we move on to proxy-marking.” 

He froze. Kuroo looked completely serious. “Um…”

The alpha rubbed the back of his neck. “I'm leaving it on the table. It's completely up to you. In fairness, I kind of forgot we do have to go outside once in a while, so I dropped my guard. Think about it, ‘kay?”

The omega did. He remembered what transpired just an hour ago, the dull ache in his wrist, and how safe he felt in Kuroo's embrace. Kenma's face became oddly hot.

Kuroo began to stand up. “Take your time, Kenma. I'll go make us some breakfast.” 

Kenma nodded. He sat there and pulled out his phone to tell Akaashi.

Kozume: _Something happened_

He didn't have to wait long for a response.

Akaashi: _Do I get Bokuto involved? Yes or no, tell me now._

Kozume: _No its not like that_  
_Kuroo saved me from a creep at the grocery_

Kenma could imagine Akaashi sighing with relief from the time it took him to reply again. 

Akaashi: _Okay. That’s a relief._

Kozume: _But because of offered to start the proxy_  
Should I do it

Akaashi: _I don't know, to be honest. You aren't getting headaches anymore, are you?_

Kozume: _No_  
_We hugged at the grocery store and it felt_  
_Not wrong_

Akaashi: _Oh._  
_You don’t like being touched, though._

Kozume: _I know_  
_But_  
_I think with him its okay_  
_He hasnt been inappropriate or anything_

Akaashi: _Please set higher standards for yourself, and for Kuroo._

Kozume: _It’s not like I have a choice_

Akaashi: _You do. You just said he “offered” the proxy. You can say no._

Kozume: _What if_  
_I am okay_  
_with saying yes_  
_But its for necessities_  
_Not anything else okay_

Akaashi: _Okay. I trust your judgement._

Kozume: _Im serious its not for anything else_

Akaashi: _…Sure._

Kozume: _Akaashi dont say Sure like that_

Akaashi: _...Sure. Have fun._

Kenma scrunched up his nose. He was _not_ going to have fun with it at all, he bet. In fact he believed if he said yes to Kuroo’s proxy-marking, and they started having contact, he’d hate it so much. So much he’d never do it ever again. 

Kenma stood up and approached Kuroo, who was busy doing at something on the counter. 

“Kuro,” he said, peeking over at what he had. He had ingredients for what looked like a sandwich. There were loaves of bread, some cooked eggs, ham, cheese and butter. 

“Hey. We’re having sandwiches for breakfast.” Kuroo was buttering a slice of bread. 

“Let’s do it.” He said. 

The alpha stared at him for a while like he said something really stupid. His gaze was interrupted by the bread sliding off his hand and falling down on the counter, butter-side down. They both looked at it, a cringe of disappointment forming on Kuroo’s face. 

“Are you… gonna get that?” Kenma asked, pointing at the fallen bread.

He took a while to respond. “...Sorry, I was processing. What did you just say?” 

“Are you gonna get that…?” Kenma repeated. 

“No, no, the other thing.” Kuroo picked it up and wiped the stain with a paper towel. 

“I said let’s do it. The proxy-marking…?” Kenma tilted his head. 

“Oh! Oh, okay, okay! Man, I thought-- Say things better next time, will you? You scared me like that!” Kuroo told him crossly. He picked up another slice and began buttering that. 

He didn’t understand what made the thing he said so confusing. “Well, now what?” He asked.

“Eh? Brunch, I guess.” He paused; the trademark smirk returning to his face. “Hey now, are you getting eager~? Are you excited to get some?”

Kenma grimaced at him. “Eugh, Kuro no,”

“What, don’t like sandwiches? Starve then,” he said, laying a slice of ham over the bread. 

“No-- I mean… Ye...yes?” He wanted to kick Kuroo, who was smirking harder as he fumbled with his words. Wasn’t it the alpha’s fault for trying to confuse him, anyway?

“There there, Kenma~ You’re not you when you’re hungry. Here,” Kuroo raised a finished sandwich to his face. 

The urge to retaliate hit Kenma and he took a bite of the sandwich-- along with Kuroo’s fingers. The alpha hissed, jerking his hand back, leaving the sandwich with the omega. He cradled it in his other hand. “What the _hell,_ man!?” He looked absolutely pained and Kenma thought he deserved it. 

“Less butter next time,” Kenma mumbled while chewing. The sandwich tasted great thanks to the seasoning of Kuroo’s pain.

“Why you…” Kuroo growled. He approached Kenma. 

Normally, Kenma would be scared out of his wits to see an alpha mad. But for some reason, he detected nothing of the sort from Kuroo. Just a faint spike of chocolate. He didn’t even stop nibbling at the sandwich or back away as Kuroo approached him and whapped him on the head. 

“Ow!” He grunted, choking on a bit of ham. 

“Oh, shut it!” Kuroo told him, sticking his tongue out. 

They stuck their tongues out at each other. 

\--  
Later on when they were both fed, they had returned to their normal daily routine, albeit with one minor adjustment: they were touching. 

And it was awkward. 

_‘We didn’t think this out,’_ the silence between them seemed to suggest. 

Kenma felt like his clothes were trying to melt with Kuroo’s. The warmth was emanating from his skin, mingling with the other man’s. He could feel every movement, every twitch in muscle, or pulse while pressed together like this. Without the noise of the television, or his games to distract him, Kenma could only focus on the sound of their breaths: soft, subtle, restrained. There was something tugging at his chest; a feeling that was greedy and wanted more flesh touching between the two and it was taking all of Kenma’s mental capacity not to give in, to press himself against the crook of Kuroo’s body. 

It took him a while before he started getting comfortable with their being ‘comfortable’. Kenma was literally fighting his own instincts and he did not want to lose. 

_‘It would be weird,_ he reasoned with himself. _‘Really weird coming from you to just snuggle like that. He’ll probably think it’s gross. We’re both just making do with each other.’_

He brought his knees to his chest, balling up with a sigh. 

“What’s wrong?” Kuroo asked. 

_‘You know what’s wrong,’_ Kenma wanted to tell him. He kept quiet.

Kuroo started nudging him. “Oi, Kenma. Kenma,” he repeated, using his knee and bumping it against his thigh. “I know that face of yours, you're thinking about things again.”

“Am not,” he replied.

“Are too! You think I can't see you scrunch up your nose? Especially when you eat vegetables!” Kuroo told him.

Kenma covered his nose with his hands, feeling particularly miffed Kuroo was watching him. “Am not,” he insisted.

“Are too! Covering it up doesn't mean anything now~ Contrary to popular belief, you _do_ make expressions, y'know?” Kuroo nudged him teasingly.

“I don’t,” he insisted again, nudging Kuroo back. 

“You do~” 

He wanted to smack the grin out of his face. Kenma jabbed his hand into Kuroo’s side, causing the taller man to grunt in pain. Kuroo glared at him, and Kenma stared back at him, unyielding to the glare. “I don’t.” He said once more, a smirk of his own forming. 

It launched a flurry of attacks. They were both jabbing and nudging and pushing each other on the couch. Though Kenma was smaller, it worked to his advantage because he could hit Kuroo with more damage; his fingers could deliver ‘critical hits’. Kuroo however was built like a tank in comparison to his stick-like figure, and he just took the damage (though, not without consequences) and kept pushing at him. 

In the end they were both panting hard, both annoyed at each other, so they both conceded, resting on the couch with their legs tangled in each other. 

“Can you pass me the remote?” Kuroo said, pointing at it. It was on the coffee table, closer to Kenma. 

The omega picked it up. He looked at it, then at Kuroo. 

Kuroo knew what he had in mind. “Kenma. Don’t.” He sounded like he was begging. 

“Okay,” Kenma replied, letting the remote fall on the floor. 

The alpha pulled a disgruntled face, muttering something as he leaned over to pick it up. 

Spotting his opportunity, Kenma went for it-- he raised his hand and landed a solid slap to the back of Kuroo’s head. 

Kuroo was still for a full five seconds before he brought his head back up, staring at Kenma with the eyes of a predator about to strike. 

It’s like it was all happening in slow motion. Each movement was clear to Kenma, reminding him of the time with the shirt and his games, and the concentration it came with. So at what point should Kenma get up and run away? When Kuroo turned towards him? There was still time to stand and make a break for it. When Kuroo lifted his hands? The margin between their bodies were getting closer; Kenma’s breathing hitched. Kuroo’s fingers touched his cheek, gently, like earlier at the grocery, and then, bringing his fingers together, the alpha went and pinched his cheeks, pulling them apart. 

“Stop. Being. Mean.” Kuroo growled, pulling Kenma’s cheeks with each word. 

Kenma stuck his tongue out in defiance. He was sure he looked silly, but he couldn’t help it. Kuroo burst out laughing, sounding like a hyena. 

“You look so stupid right now!” He guffawed, letting go of Kenma’s face and holding his stomach instead.] 

The omega massaged his cheeks. “Not as stupid as your hair.” He mumbled. 

“Touche,” Kuroo replied, grinning. After a while, “Ceasefire?” 

“Mmm.” Kenma agreed, nodding. 

So it ended there, the brief, playful scuffle. They were no longer tense around each other, now that they became familiar of each other’s bodies… albeit in a less orthodox way. It was no longer an uncomfortable strangeness for Kenma, but something more pleasant. He didn’t feel the awkwardness of his thin legs laying over Kuroo’s lap, or him using Kuroo’s arm as a backrest. Their bodies just fit naturally like that. Kenma thought that it was because it was so convenient, so easy to forget Kuroo was an alpha. Sitting like this, with him flipping through channels, he just seemed like a regular person. Not some… hyper-sexual monster incapable of control. 

“Kenma, you’re staring at me again,” Kuroo said. 

“You’re imagining it,” Kenma replied. 

And somehow, it felt _okay_ for Kenma to speak like that to him. He never thought he could allow himself to talk back to anyone, much less an alpha, but if it was Kuroo, the omega thought that it would be fine. 

_\---_

It was around 8 o’clock. 

“‘Scuse me,” Kuroo lifted Kenma’s legs from his lap. “So I have a thing to attend with a couple of friends,” he said. “I’ll be out laaate, but if you need anything, just text me.” 

The blonde nodded. Kuroo went upstairs and returned looking extremely… 

He didn’t want to say it. Again, Kenma felt like he’d lose by admitting it. Okay, he looked really good. 

Kuroo wore a 2-piece suit without a tie; the first button of his shirt undone. He smelled faintly of some cologne, and Kenma wanted it off him. 

“...A bit fancy,” Kenma mumbled while looking at the floor tiles. 

“Ahh? Yeah, my friend didn’t want to get bombed by paparazzi so we’re eating somewhere fancy and secluded. You need anything when I come back?” 

“Nothing, no,” Kenma said. 

“A’ight then, I’m off~” Kuroo waved, and headed for the door. 

“Bye,” Kenma said as the door closed. “Come back soon.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys??? I can't believe we hit 200 kudos?? Thank you so much!! I never expected so much attention, especially since this is my first time posting! 
> 
> Back to fic business, I really wanted to show more of Kuroo and Kenma just messing around and tripping on each other because it's so underrated?? I feel like they're the sort of people who playfight when nobody's looking haha  
> Other than that, the next chapter is Bokuto's intermission! It picks up right after this, and we'll be introduced to Oikawa and Iwaizumi! 
> 
> Twitter/Tumblr: @danmujiji  
> (I post/RT haikyuu and fic related stuff, and I usually notify the people who follow me from here when I push out the next updates!)


	12. Intermission: Bokuto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bokuto and his boku-bros hang out at a bar. Later on, he grows up and confesses.

Bokuto groaned out loud. He rest his face in his hands and exhaled loudly in an attempts to get the attention of his friends. 

“Guys,” he said through his hands. “I can’t take anymore...”

Kuroo ignored him. “Oika’a, what drink is that?” 

Oikawa also ignored him. “Ehh, just an aperol spritz, nothing too strong right now,” 

Bokuto turned to them. “Will you listen to me?!” 

Kuroo, Oikawa, and Iwaizumi looked at him like he was some noisy kid who interrupted an adult discussion. What the hell was so adult about the type of drink you drink? It’s just fancied-up juice, anyway. Not to say the juice didn’t taste or feel good though, but the only reason the conversation was ‘adult’ was because of their age. Otherwise, they’re just like middle schoolers exchanging juice boxes for lunch!

“Bo, you do this _literally_ every time we go out. What Akaashi-related problem is this now?”

“I think I’m in love with him,” he said, without hesitation. He thought it was true! For the past couple of months he couldn’t think of anything else! Somehow he was always aware of the beta’s… everything, actually. From his face (the best part), to his words (second best, when it wasn’t a scolding), and his actions (so cute!) He even started skipping work less just to see Akaashi more and get praised for working. If that wasn’t proof of love, he didn’t know what was. 

Oikawa snorted. “Bokucchi, is this ‘love’ like that last time in uni when you had the hots for the manager? You were like, ‘I think she’s my true love’ or something!” The alpha burst out laughing. “You couldn’t focus your spikes for weeks!”

“Oyaa, like that one time you dated this guy for three months and said you’d marry him?” Kuroo added with a grin. “You were _destroyed_ when he broke up with you first!” 

“I get it, I get it!” Bokuto fumed, taking a gulp of beer right after. The yummy wheat juice was cold and hit the spot just right. “But I think this is _real_ this time! Like… Like…” He gripped the air, his face twisted in concentration like he was trying to squeeze the answer out of it. His face felt hot and they had only started drinking! “...Like, I think he just _gets_ me, y’know?” 

Kuroo hummed. “Maybe that’s because he’s paid to do it?” 

Bokuto flinched in shock. He had forgotten about that! He scowled, and unable to say anything back, he just let his forehead fall to the table with a loud thump, glasses clinking. He groaned again, feeling like the whole world was against him. A hand reached over to pet his head. It was large and the petting was rather hard. Probably Iwaizumi.

“Hey, get over it.” Iwaizumi said. 

Bokuto glanced up and stared at him, looking extremely dumbfounded. Was that supposed to be encouraging? ‘Get over it?’ He didn’t know what message Iwaizumi was trying to get across. 

Oikawa and Kuroo burst out laughing. 

_”Hey, get over it.”_ Kuroo said, mimicking the tone. He lurched over the table in laughter, pounding it with his fist lightly. 

“Iwacchi,” Oikawa was wheezing, “you’re the worst! Was that your attempt at cheering people up? _Hey, get over it!_ ”

The spiky-haired man slapped his lover’s back, causing him to yelp. “Shut up, Shittykawa! I tried, huh?” A fierce blush was spreading over his furious face. 

Bokuto had to admit it _was_ pretty funny, and he started chuckling too, feeling lighter in his chest. Iwa did try, and that was all that mattered!

“See? It worked!” Iwaizumi huffed. 

After the laughter died down, they had a couple more drinks. He thought it was fun sitting around with his friends, keeping each other updated, and fooling around in general. It really wasn’t much different from their university days, except they simply moved on from clubs into more private and ‘formal’ bars where they could drink like adults, laugh like adults, and rant like adults. Gone were the bright lights and overbearingly loud techno music, the skimpy or ‘cool’ outfits, and the cheap and bright colored drinks. Now it was replaced by real good lighting, suits, and professionally-made concoctions. Bokuto had to admit he sometimes missed fooling around and going wild like that, but as he grew older his tastes matured with him(though, not by much compared to his friends). These sorts of things had their own coolness to them, too! It was like something in a movie where they were part of a secret society like the mafia and they could afford to get a private section in a high-class hotel. 

He enjoyed it, he really did, but what Kuroo said weighed down on him like a dark cloud, filling his thoughts. 

Maybe Akaashi really was just putting up with him? He knew the beta was being paid a considerable amount to be his secretary because according to Kuroo, he was going through them like ‘changing clothes’. Even his father had to intervene and hire Akaashi _for_ him! So maybe he was just putting up a nice front, and he actually found him to be… annoying? After all, even if Akaashi was his secretary, he usually prioritized orders from his dad.

Thinking about these little details sucks! 

A cold glass pressed itself on his cheek. He jumped and sat up straighter, rubbing the cold spot. “Hey… What was that for, Kuroo?” He grumbled. 

“It’s not like you to be so down in the dumps,” the alpha said. “Have a drink and chill out, will you? First time we’ve hung out like this in a while” Kuroo swirled the glass in front of him and Bokuto traced the movement of the ice cube swirling in the whiskey. He took it and emptied it out, licking his lips. It was strong, and it warmed up his whole body. “There we go~” Kuroo said. 

Bokuto exhaled, and the taste of the drink passed over his tongue again. “Really,” he said, rubbing his neck. It was hot, or maybe it was his hand? He didn’t know, and he was still thirsty. “I really think I like him… Is it fucked up to like somebody?” He asked them, voice sincere. 

Oikawa and Iwaizumi looked at each other. “Yeah it is,” they told him in unison, before snapping back at each other with their usual ‘how dare you’ and ‘I hate you’. Though, to everyone who knew them both, those words usually meant the opposite for them. 

“Well,” Kuroo took a sip of whiskey. Bokuto had been waiting for him to finally drink his glass. He usually drank without ice, and only after he put some drops of water into it. Some chemistry junk he didn’t understand again, for sure. “Why Akaashi in the first place?” 

Oikawa stopped trying to get at Iwaizumi for a second. “Yeah, why him, Bokucchi?” Iwaizumi pulled him in for a hug and they easily settled into each other’s arms. 

They always did that after their little fights. Bokuto always found it funny how they could just fight at one second then be super relaxed with each other the next. It kind of made him jealous, actually. He wanted to do the same with Akaashi, just hold him in an embrace! He folded his arms across his chest and closed his eyes to arrange his thoughts. 

“Oya?”

“Oh… He’s _thinking…_ Iwa, shush!”

“I didn’t even--”

 _“Shush!”_

“Hmm…” Bokuto opened his eyes. “Akaashi can keep up with me! I mean, you know my secretary, before him, Liya…”

“Laila?” Kuroo suggested. He made a face as if to tell him ‘you don’t remember her anymore?’

“Yeah, her! Well, you know she quit after like, three months. She said I was ‘difficult to deal with’...”

They nodded.

“Too spontaneous…” 

They all hummed in agreement. 

“And too spoiled!” 

“You are,” All three said. 

“... I’m never talking again.” He mumbled, staring off into the distance, vowing never to open his mouth, no matter what! All will left his limbs and felt like a lifeless doll on the seats. The worst of it was that they were all laughing at him! He glared at the group, wishing their heads would explode!

Kuroo was grinning at him. “Oooh, Bokuto’s glaring! You’re probably thinking right now, ‘I wish your heads would explode!’ Right? Right?”

“Urghh, shut up! Stop reading me! Aren’t you supposed to be a scientist, not a mind-reader?!” He scowled, pointing at the bed-headed alpha. 

“And he talks!” Oikawa grinned alongside Kuroo, “you said you never would, but here you are Bokucchi~ You might as well say the rest of it, c’mon~” 

“Yeah, Bo, say it, say it, say it!” Kuroo was clapping. “I know you wanna~”

Well how could he resist? If people clapped at him to encourage him, he just had to! A smile found its way on Bokuto’s face. “Fine, fine! So like I was saying, I like Akaashi ‘cause he can keep up, right? I mean, I don’t like holding back! If I wanna do this, or that, I’ll just go for it! It just…” He was struggling again, wrinkling his brows, “it’s like spiking! You know, back then at practice, I always give it my 100% because then it doesn’t feel right, right?”

“Kyotani,” Iwaizumi mumbled into Oikawa’s ear. Oikawa hummed in agreement. 

“So, Akaashi’s like that to me! I can be full-on silly, but he picks me up, and if I get down, he knows exactly what to say to get me working again! And I’m sure he doesn’t hate me, okay? Don’t make me think about if he hates me or not, because he _doesn’t._ ”

“Oooh, and how are you getting it in with him then, if he doesn’t hate you?” said Kuroo. 

Well that just put a damper on his spirits! Bokuto sighed hard. “Not well at all! The work stuff is okay, and it’s all normal, but nothing’s happening!”

Oikawa blinked. “Eh? I gave you my best dating tips though!” 

“It’s not that, I just think he’s like, not getting it! I’ve been trying to be so up front with him, asking him out and even saying I want him to stay with me, literally in bed, but he’s not… y’know?”

“Falling in love with his boss who could fire him if he says no?” Kuroo said. 

“Shut up!” Bokuto scowled at him again. “And I can’t fire him, only my dad can!”

“Kidding, kidding! Why’re you getting so riled up over a beta, Bo? You’re the fourth son in the main Fukuro group, so practically speaking, aren’t you supposed to have an alpha or omega as a mate? If it’s an alpha that’s a business thing, and well…” Kuroo rubbed the back of his head. He does that when he doesn’t have full confidence in what he says. He found that really funny most of the time, though this was different. “Really, you can just pop up at the local… wherever and snag an omega. Easy as that,” Kuroo said with a snap of his fingers. 

The thought of ‘picking up’ an omega made him queasy. That, or he’s getting a little tipsy. He wanted to say Kuroo literally _did_ pick up an omega, but to be fair that was a little bit of a different discussion.

“Urghh no,” Bokuto grimaced, “okay, so… With Akaashi, I feel like I can’t cheat like that to get him. If he was an omega, all I’d have to do was catch him on a heat day, right? But that wouldn’t feel right at all! All I did was wait, then what? No effort! And that’s too easy. If it’s too convenient like that, it feels like cheating because I didn’t give it my all! With stuff like this, you gotta give it your 120%!” 

“Hooo,” Kuroo’s expression darkened as he swirled his glass. It was nearly empty. “Convenient, huh?” 

“Ah, shit! I’m sorry!” Bokuto looked at his fellow alpha. Kuroo had this unreadable expression and it was like the whole world had gone silent whenever he had a face like that. It was weird, especially when he had a sly expression almost all the time. What’s worse was that his whole body language would change! Like he just stepped into a panther’s lair. 

“H-hey you know, it’s different for everyone,” Oikawa said, attempting to break the tension. “Because we’re all different, literally anything can happen. I mean you’ve got cases like beta-Iwa here who suddenly turned alpha at the beginning of college. What a freak, right?” He laughed. 

Iwaizumi put him in a headlock from their hugging position. While trying to choke Oikawa, Iwaizumi said, still very composed, “well I think it’s not ‘cheating’ if you hold back, or something like that. There’s a flow to these sort of things. Bokuto likes going against it, and this guy,” he poked hard at Oikawa’s forehead, “catches a drift,” he points at himself, “and stubbornly tries to get ahead of it every time. But guys like Kuroo who just sit and wait for their momentum. When he finds it, I bet he’ll go full speed ahead.” 

Everyone was quiet. They all stared at Iwaizumi who was surprised at such a response. “W-what?” he glared at them. 

“‘Waizumi, that was deep.” Kuroo looked genuinely surprised. “I need another drink to process what you just said.” He reached over and took a swig of wine, straight from the bottle. 

Bokuto nodded in agreement. “Yeah, yeah! That was really deep. What was that about flowcharts and stuff?” He kind of stopped listening halfway through because it made sense, but there was just so much words he couldn’t take it all!

“Iwa, are you okay? Did any of you spike his drink?” Oikawa looked concerned from his headlock.

“Why do you guys act like it’s weird if it’s coming from me?!”

Oikawa chuckled. “Because you’re such a spiky-blockhead!” He said it like it was an interesting fact. “That’s my Iwa though~ I get so wet when you act smart, you know?” 

Iwaizumi glared at him. “Well wipe it up, we’re in public here.” 

“How mean!” Again, the lovers were back to getting at each other. Bokuto actually liked watching them, it was like some comedy show, guaranteed to entertain all the time. And it did, because the mood was lighter now, and Bokuto no longer felt like Kuroo was going to jump them at any second. 

“So I’m just curious,” Kuroo turned to him. “You can’t get it with omegas at all, then?”

Since Kuroo himself started it, he felt pretty safe answering. That was such a Kuroo thing, though! He was the sort of guy who’d just pick up on details and want to investigate! 

“I guess I really can’t, because look at them! Like, I bet if they receive one of my spikes, their arms would tear off! It’s like that in real life, too! I know I don’t, y’know, think of things through and stuff, I feel... if knock into one, they’d just... die!” 

“Die…?” Kuroo looked confused. 

“Yeah, Kuroo! You’re one to talk when that Kenma guy looks like he’ll die if I talk to him! You know actually, let’s talk about you!”

Kuroo coughed like he just choked on something. “Hah? Why me all of a sudden?” 

“What do you mean ‘why you’?!” You’ve got the weirdo… living thing arrangement!”

“That weirdo living thing’s name is Kenma, and you’re being _rude._ ” Kuroo pointed at him.

“Oho, defensive now, _alpha?_ ” Now it was Bokuto’s turn to grin.

Kuroo glowered. “Psh, no way! Kenma’s alright, he’s at home right now, probably playing games or somethin’.” 

“Kurocchi, question!” Oikawa raised his hand like a grade-schooler. “Have you fucked him yet?” 

“What kind of a-- no! _No!_ ” Kuroo looked at him like he was insane.

Oikawa hummed like he didn’t believe him. “Oooh, interesting~ And you don’t plan to?”

“...Not unless he _wants_ to.” He looked away from them. 

Bokuto could have been mistaken, but was there a blush on Kuroo’s face? Maybe he was just drunk. If he knew Kuroo, it was that nothing like that would get under his skin!

“Anyways, I’m not some sort of sex freak like you guys!” He pointed at the couple. 

“Hey!” They both looked pissed while Kuroo stuck his tongue out again, never one to stay provoked for too long. “We just express our love in really strong ways, right Iwa?” 

“He might be right, we should tone it down a bit,” Iwaizumi said, rubbing his chin in consideration. “It’s difficult, especially when we have shoots,” 

Oikawa actually whipped his head around like his lover just seriously considered shooting him for pocket change. “Iwa, no,” he said, with desperation. 

“Sex freaks, sex freaks!” Bokuto and Kuroo chanted, both looking very entertained. 

“Iwa please, I don’t think… You can survive without my ass!” Oikawa winked, sticking his tongue out while sporting a peace sign. 

Iwaizumi had this scary expression. In general he was already scary enough, but that look sent shivers down his spine! Bokuto truly couldn’t tell sometimes if he wanted to kill Oikawa or not. To think it came from a guy who had only been an alpha for a few years! “Eh? You think _I_ can’t survive without your ass? You’re the one who--” 

Kuroo clapped his hands loudly, interrupting the little lover’s spat. “O-kay~ I do not want to hear about your sexcapades!”

Oikawa snorted at him. “You’re just jealous of us because you can’t get laid anymore, Kurocchi~” 

“Um,” Kuroo raised a hand and put it on his chest. “That is a choice. You see, I have values such as chastity--” 

He snorted mid-sentence. Not even Kuroo could keep that act up! They all burst out in loud, raucous laughter, barely contained in the private room. The idea of Kuroo Tetsurou being a man of chastity was something so hilarious to them. Especially during his university years when they were absolutely notorious for the complete opposite. Kuroo especially, since he was known for his particular taste in alphas. He wouldn’t touch anything else other than very seldom betas.

Once more, the noise died down, and they rang in a couple more drinks which kept them talking. Mostly about life and work. Oikawa’s modelling career was taking off with Iwaizumi (begrudgingly) as his manager. The following week the two were headed off in some foreign country Bokuto couldn’t spell for a beach photoshoot. It sounded super fun! Especially since it had been a long time since they went to the beach for summer. The couple regularly went to exotic places for their careers and it made him jealous! Though they still had problems, but they were on the small side. Their biggest concern right now was how to fuck while keeping up with a schedule. Kuroo told them to buy matching chastity belts. The couple unanimously disapproved.

Bokuto only had work and Akaashi to deal with, though he had a lot to say about Akaashi to the point they had to beg him to stop. Kuroo on the other hand, they were sure had plenty of problems. But they also knew he was the sort of guy to lick his wounds in private. There really was no prying when it came to him, so he usually tapped out during these discussions, only having commentary or advice to offer. Eventually it came back to joking around with each other.

“Hey Bo, would you still like Akaashi if he was bald?” 

Bokuto spat out his drink and coughed hard, pounding his chest. “Wha- that’s such a shitty question, Kuroo! Would you live with Kenma if _he_ was bald?!” 

“Eugh, don’t make me think about it,” he groaned. 

“Heh! Don’t dish out what you can’t take!” Bokuto snickered. 

They both look at each other and turn to Iwaizumi. “Hey, hey, if we shave Oikawa’s head right now, would you still love him?” 

“Why are you guys involving me in this?” Oikawa glared at them. 

The spiky-haired alpha hummed, contemplating Oikawa’s face, who in turn, winked at him. Iwaizumi sighed like he had no choice. “Yeah, probably.”

Oikawa turned a brilliant shade of red. Iwaizumi’s bluntness had its perks, it seemed. “Eh? Iwa? W-what are you saying?”

“I said what I said,” he muttered. The brown-haired alpha covered his face in his hands, stomping his feet. 

“This is unfair, this is so fucking unfair, Iwa! You can’t just say shit like that! Meanie! Stupid!” 

“What the hell did I do this time?!” 

Bokuto burst out laughing. “Isn’t this just nice?” He smiled. “Oikawa can’t handle honesty at all!” 

Kuroo nodded. “Sure is, yeah?” Then he went silent, staring off somewhere. 

Bokuto looked at him. Kuroo had been his friend for many years now, but sometimes he still couldn’t tell what he was thinking. It was the opposite for Kuroo, who could read him like a book. Well someday, he’ll probably be able to do it! And he thinks he’s cracking the code, very slowly. Right now, he could tell Kuroo was thinking of something. At the very least he knew when Kuroo was doing that, there was something bothering him. 

“Hey, freaky read-blocker,” Bokuto said to catch his attention.

Kuroo scowled. “What the fuck? What the hell did I do to you now?” 

Bokuto laughed and pat his back. “Lighten up, man! You looked so serious right now,” 

For a moment, Kuroo stared. “Yeah,” he admitted. “Just a lot on my mind,”

He knew it! “You mind telling me some?” 

“Oya, is somebody being considerate of others now~?” He grinned. 

“Kuroo…” Bokuto narrowed his eyes. “Stop trying to avoid the topic!”

“Fine, fine~ You look like a puppy begging me for food right now, y’know? Can’t help but feel bad so,” He paused. “A couple days ago, I went out for a morning run. Ever since _you_ made me quit work, I had to y’know, find something to wake up for. Well apparently, it was strong.”

“Your pheromones?” Bokuto tilted his head. He couldn’t really tell. They had already gotten used to each other’s smells.

“Yeah, ‘parrently it reached the second floor and Kenma said it forced him awake every time. It’s troublesome,” he said, taking another swig from the bottle of wine. “And when he got downstairs, I could also smell him.”

Bokuto leaned in close. “What did he smell like?” 

“Mint. But there’s some sweetness in it, too… It smelled really good.” Kuroo admitted, covering up his nose with his hands. 

His eyes widened. He couldn’t believe it. His mouth was gaping, and he pointed at the alpha. _Kuroo was blushing._ “Eh? What’s this~? Is our Kuroo blushing?”

“Kurocchi is blushing? Let me see!” Oikawa sprung from his seat and plopped himself down next to Kuroo, who was trying to get away. 

“Shut up, I’m not!” The dark-haired alpha hissed, still covering his face. Oikawa was tugging at his arm while Bokuto kept him in place with a firm grasp on his shoulders. With some effort, they managed to pry his hand from his face, revealing the blush on his cheeks. “I’m just tipsy, I swear,” he said, obviously blushing still. 

“Sure, sure~” Bokuto grinned. The fact Kuroo was blushing was big! He was usually the blush-ee, not the blush-er! It actually just gave him an idea! “Hey, do you think… Kenma could be your fated mate?” 

“Huh!?” That took the blush off his face. Kuroo looked outright offended! “No way! Bo, I’m a biochemist, and I can tell you, fated mates and all that stuff? That’s just a lie invented by horny alphas who want to get mated already! That’s how it works for us who’re hardwired to react to omegas. We’ll take the first whiff of pheromones and we think that’s ‘love’. It’s not, it’s just biology. No matter how good it smells, it’s not!”

Bokuto had to laugh first. “Kuroo, you’re not very convincing when you just blushed talking about Kenma’s scent!” 

“True,” Iwaizumi said. 

“Oh, shut it! You’re a hypocrite too, Bo! Even _you_ think the pheromones thing is bullshit.”

Ugh, he had to agree. “Mmm, that’s true…”

Surprisingly, Kuroo was getting louder and sounding more annoyed as he kept talking. “Yeah, because you want something more substantial, don’t you? You don’t want some instant… _thing_ you don’t deserve because you didn’t work for it! That’s why you like Akaashi as a beta, right? You have to work to get him to love you, and biology isn’t on your side! Because pheromones are just shortcuts, right!?” He was panting after that, incredibly spent after spilling out something he must have been keeping inside for a while. 

Bokuto couldn’t shake the feeling that… Kuroo wasn’t just talking about him and Akaashi. He narrowed his eyes, trying to think, but he couldn’t! It was getting late, and all the drinks were getting to him. 

“Calm down there, Kurocchi!” Oikawa put his hands on Kuroo’s shoulders. “You’re getting drunk, aren’t you? Iwa, can you ring in for some water?” 

Iwaizumi rang the buzzer. A waiter was there in a few moments and promised to bring them some water. When Kuroo had taken a drink, he rest his head against the table. They all watched him closely, waiting for him to settle. He eventually sat up, a red mark over his forehead which caused them all to snort. 

“Got a bit carried away there, huh?” Kuroo said, rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry,”

“Don’t mind, don’t mind~” Oikawa told him, “It’s pretty refreshing to hear actual honesty from you, Kurocchi~” 

Kuroo feigned looking hurt, a hand clutching at his chest. “Are you saying that I, of all people, am not honest? I’m so offended!” He glanced at his watch. “Oya, it’s getting late,” he said. 

Everyone checked their phones. It was around 11:36 PM. Back when they were younger, they were willing to stay out as late as 4AM, but now, as (mostly) functioning adults, they just got more tired the closer it got to 12AM. The stark difference between being 20 and being 27 was amazing, but not in the good way! 

“Right,” Iwaizumi said, standing up. Oikawa stood with him. “It’s about time we get going. If this guy sleeps too late it’ll ruin his skin.”

“Aw, Iwa’s worried about me~” OIkawa cooed. 

“We’ll lose our jobs if you become ugly, Shittykawa.”

“But you won’t stop loving me, even if I go bald~” Oikawa crooned, snuggling up to his lover. Iwaizumi linked their arms together.

“Oi, we didn’t say we’d shave you bald. We can give you a bowl cut too.” Kuroo grinned.

“Ooh, Kuroo, what if we do both? Shave the top all shiny, but leave bangs all over?”

“Like a monk?”

“Exactly!” He and Kuroo burst out laughing. 

Oikawa was cross. “Do you guys hate my hair or something? You can tell me now, be honest. I’ll punch you if you do, but be honest!” He raised a middle finger at them. 

“Hey. Let’s get going now. Bokuto’s picking up the bill, right?” Iwaizumi interrupted, tugging his arm. 

Bokuto nodded and grinned wide. “Yup! I’m the best host after all~” 

“Thanks,” said Iwaizumi. “We really have to go now. Come on, Monkawa.” He waved at Bokuto and Kuroo, dragging an angry Oikawa with him. 

Then, a phone buzzed. It was Kuroo’s. 

“Seems like I should get going, too.” He was grinning at the screen. “Check it out,”

Bokuto took a look. 

Kenma: _Kuro bring food_

“Kuro?” Bokuto gave him an odd look. 

“Yeah, it’s a nickname.” He said, putting his phone back in his pocket. “Well, it’s just one syllable off, so barely a nickname, but it is what it is,”

It piqued his interest. Were the two already that close? “You guys already have nicknames for each other? That’s so cool! It’s only been what, 2 weeks?” 

“Nearly a month now, three weeks actually. It was my idea, I thought he’d relax more if he could call me what he liked.”

“Did it work?”

“I think so, because I’m so good and considerate of others~ We’re on proxies now, remember?” 

Bokuto grit his teeth. “Urgh, I’m so jealous! I wish Akaashi and I have that! I wanna touch him! I wanna call him Keiji!”

Kuroo snorted at him. “You gotta work on letting him know your feelings first Bocchan, don’t be spoiled now~”

“Aw, I hate that nickname! It makes me feel like a kid!” Bokuto pouted. 

“I mean, is it wrong?” 

“I was born in September! I’m older than you!” 

“Prove it and act like it, then. Grow up and tell Akaashi what you feel instead of dancing around with Oikawa’s tips. I’ll bet you dinner. Nice yakiniku place opened up downtown~” 

Bokuto whined. “Noooo! I don’t wanna! I’m scared!” Not even yakiniku could convince him!

“Aaaand that’s why we still call you Bocchan~”

He groaned. “Ugh, fine! I’ll tell him the next time I see him!” 

Kuroo grinned and ruffled his head. Man! How does he make everyone feel younger than him? He’s like the most unreasonably dad-like person, even if his hair looked like a high-schooler’s punk phase! “Can’t wait to hear about your failure!” He stuck his tongue out.

“Don’t jinx me! And no I won’t! I won’t fail, I’ll prove it to you!” Bokuto swat Kuroo’s hands away. 

“‘I’ll believe it when I see it~ ‘Be taking my leave now~ Gonna go pick up food for Kenma on the way.”

He said that like Kenma was an animal. “Is he like your pet cat, or something? _Gonna pick up food for my cat, Kenma,_ ” He mimicked.

Kuroo snorted. “Buahaha! I mean, he _is_ pretty cat-like,” he said. He made his way for the door. “Anyways, I’m tapping out now. See ya next time, Bo!” and he slipped out with a wave. 

\---  


By the time Bokuto got home, it was 12AM. His eyes were barely open as he stumbled through the doors. He was very thankful for the housekeepers who would pick up the articles of clothing he was steadily stripping out of by tomorrow while he made his way to his room. At this point, the clothes only felt annoying! It was hot and he couldn’t care less, not especially in his own house.

“Mr. Bokuto.”

He jumped and turned around. “What!?”

It was Akaashi. He was holding some folders in his hands. “You forgot to sign these. I must file them immediately to finish my report,” he stated. The beta’s eyes were staring right at him. 

Bokuto broke eye contact first, glancing down at himself. He was half naked, having kicked off his shoes and socks by the door, his jacket thrown somewhere, his shirt flung over a chair, leaving him in his pants. His hands quickly flew to his chest, covering them. “Akaashi!? What are you doing here?!” He remembered what he told Kuroo, and how he’d tell the beta the next time he saw him. But he didn’t expect it to go like this! He wanted it somewhere more awesome, or romantic to set the mood! Now he didn’t want to do it anymore...

Akaashi stepped towards him. “Like I said, sir, you forgot to sign these,”

“Akaashi,” he groaned, “It’s 12AM!” 

“I must file them immediately,” 

“Tuh-welve A-M! Have you been waiting here all this time?”

“Only for thirty minutes. Mr. Bokuto, please just sign these.” The beta approached him, holding out the folder. Bokuto took a step back then felt silly, because he was backing away from _Akaashi_ of all people. Now that he looked closer, the beta had bags under his eyes. He felt bad having made him wait.

He took the folder and went over to a table. He searched his pockets for a pen. 

Always ready, Akaashi held one out. “Here, sir.” 

“Ah, thanks…” He took it. Their fingers brushed for a moment and Bokuto felt something. He flinched. Kuroo’s words were echoing in his head again! ‘Grow up, tell him how you feel…’ It was so difficult to focus now the was in his head! Should he sign now, or should he say it? Sign, or say? If he said it now, would the Fukuro business burn to the ground? But Akaashi would get in trouble if he didn’t, but he also needed to say things! It was frustrating, because he couldn’t decide!

“Are you okay?” Akaashi looked at him, concerned. “Should I call for somebody...?” 

Bokuto waved his hands frantically. “No, no! Don’t!” He grumbled, scratching his head. 

“Something is bothering you,” Akaashi said. He looked at Bokuto. 

Bokuto swallowed. Fuck, he couldn’t resist Akaashi’s eyes. They were slanted and looked so elegant, but then every part of Akaashi was like that, too! He moved so seamlessly, and he never tripped or stumbled, and he was always so polite and considerate with everyone, but Bokuto knew he could be snarky, too! Akaashi could say the most unexpected things and he liked that part about him as well! He wanted to know more about him, not just things like his favorite foods or movies (he knew them already after pestering him), but the tiny things, like how Akaashi would rub his thumb and index finger when he can’t find something, or how after he finishes his drink he’d lick the corner of his lips. Those details were so important to him, he felt embarrassed he had been paying that much attention. 

Oh, his chest hurt. Bokuto wanted to kiss him right then and there, but that… That would be a shortcut, wouldn’t it? He was the boss, Akaashi the secretary, and if they kissed now without Akaashi saying anything, he realized he’d be pretty upset if Akaashi let him.

“Keiji, I like you.” 

“That’s very nice-- Wait.” Akaashi blinked. He blinked hard again, and rubbed his eyes. “I must be getting sleep deprived. I’m hearing things now, Mr. Bokuto. I apologize for my delusions. Please sign the papers.” He said, so quickly and so automatically. 

But Akaashi was blushing. 

“Keiji,” Bokuto held Akaashi’s hands and squeezed them gently. “I really, really like you.” 

“I-I… I…” The beta’s couldn’t push out anything else to say. He sounded choked, and was looking at everything _but_ the alpha.

“Akaashi Keiji!” He held the beta’s face, forcing him to look at him. “Did you hear what I said? I. Like. You!”

“Ye-yes, loud and clear, but… Why?” Akaashi looked… pained, somehow? “I’m just a beta.” 

“I don’t care about that! I just like you!” 

“But… But what about your parents? Don’t they… Want somebody better? Mr. Bokuto, I can’t possibly compete with--”

“Keiji, you’re not competing with anyone! You’re the only candidate for me!” Bokuto said, letting him go. He felt like something was lodged in his chest. “Besides, I’m… I’m just the fourth son, y’know? They don’t care, and if they do, they could care less because it won’t affect anything!” 

Akaashi had on a more serious expression. “You’re _not_ just the fourth son,” He even sounded serious! He held Bokuto’s hand, causing the alpha to hold his breath. “Though you can be a little spoiled, and maybe uncooperative…”

“Is this supposed to cheer me up…?” 

“You’re a good leader, Mr. Bokuto. You can always lift people up, no matter how down they get.”

Bokuto’s whole body flared up. “Hey, hey, hey… You can’t just do that! I-I mean, I’m not _that_ good of a boss, but like, I could totally be, any time, I’m just holding back-- Wait, this is supposed to be about me liking you!” 

At that, Akaashi looked away, flushed once more. “Even if you say that now, I’m sure that… someone else will come along. Somebody smarter, or more capable, more attractive--” 

He had enough. He gripped the beta’s shoulders. “Keiji, stop talking down to yourself!” It appeared Akaashi himself didn’t even realize he was doing it! The beta’s face was bewildered, like somebody just pointed out careless mistakes on a paper of his. That just showed how much he didn’t believe in himself! “You’re the most handsome-est, most hardworking-est, responsible, suuuper-smart, and nicest guy I know! It’s _you_ who can get anyone working their hardest, even me! And I’m…” Bokuto stopped himself.

Tears were dripping down Akaashi’s face. The alpha yelped like he got hit. “Ke-Keiji?! You’re crying?! Did I say something wrong?” 

Akaashi shook his head and wiped his tears. They wouldn’t stop. “No, I just… I didn’t think-- You thought of _me_ that way?” He choked out. 

There were other ways he thought of Akaashi, but now wasn’t the time for that! “Yes! Duh! You didn’t think I thought you were good?” 

“I thought you weren’t paying attention to me. You usually ignore my advice, so… no,” he answered with a sniff. He wiped his eyes again, and this time no more tears came. 

“Oh, that’s-- Okay, I’m sorry for that! But I do pay attention to you! Like, a lot. Y’know, I always try to find places we can eat that you’d like. Maybe you were being paid to do it, but I really like being with you, too! When we hang out, I get to know more about you! Like your little habits! That’s why… I like you. Y-you put up with me, but you never make me feel bad about it…” He rubbed the back of his head. “Arghh! After this, I’m gonna be a better boss to you, okay?” 

_“Just_ a boss?” Akaashi tilted his head. 

“I mean, like, d-do you…?” Bokuto was flustered now that Akaashi showed some reciprocation. “You can totally say no, don’t feel pressured! If you don’t like me, it’s not your fault!” He waved his hands frantically. 

“I… I need time to think,” Akaashi told him. He dried the last traces of his tears and inhaled deeply. 

Bokuto visibly flattened. “...Okay,” he whispered to himself. 

“Mr. Bokuto…”

Bokuto turned away from him. “No, it’s okay! You don’t have to say anything!” 

“Koutarou.” 

Bokuto whipped his head back so fast he thought it would snap. “You… You called me… by my name?” 

“...Yes. You called me by my name, as well.” Akaashi said. His eyes were still red from crying, but his voice sounded a lot more normal. 

Bokuto was absolutely giddy inside. He wanted to jump and shout, band pump his fists at the air because they had finally exchanged first names, but he had to hold it back. His fingers were twitching, threatening to curl into a fist already, but if he cheered after he just cried, it would have been weird! He probably made the situation between them weird enough as it is, because now he was a boss. What if Akaashi hated him? Oh god, he didn’t want that! He had to know, or else he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight. “...Do you hate me?” He asked sheepishly. 

Akaashi looked at him. 

Bokuto gulped. 

He shook his head. “No, I don’t hate you. But please give me time to think about it. And please sign the files. It really is getting late.” He said, pointing at the papers.

Bokuto somehow found himself chuckling. Classic Akaashi, always so quick to go back to work. He liked that part of him, too.“Okay, okay,” he said, turning to the papers, beginning to sign the marked areas. Akaashi was watching him, he could feel it. Not in the way to make sure he was doing it, but in another, different way. He couldn’t describe it, but his heart was pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears. When he finished, he returned the papers back to the folder and gave it to Akaashi. 

“Thank you. Well then,” Akaashi bowed, “I will be leaving now, Mr. Bokuto. Good night.” 

Back to formalities, it seemed! Bokuto coughed, trying to sound formal. “G-good night to you too, uh, Mister... Akaashi.” He messed it up.

Akaashi’s lips twitched. Did he just chuckle? The beta bowed again, and turned to leave. Then he stopped, and turned to face him again. He opened his mouth, closed it, then after some thinking said to the alpha, “I am… Not disapproving of the idea... of being with you. Goodbye.” He quickly walked out, leaving the alpha’s mouth wide open. 

Bokuto pumped both his fists in the air, hollering quietly to himself. It was a positive! Akaashi wasn’t creeped out by him! He had to call Kuroo, immediately. 

Ah, he just remembered he was still shirtless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand that was Bokuto! I had a pretty tricky time writing him because he's so positive and hyper haha ;; but I hope I managed to deliver! I also had fun writing the jokes between the four of the boku-bros :D Furudate wants them to meet and be friends so bad so I did it for him!! Thank you guys so much for the support as usual! 
> 
> You can find me on twitter/tumblr under the same name @danmujiji if you want to talk about hq/kuroken :D


	13. Unexpected Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo gets home, Kenma cheers up a friend, gets in trouble, then moves on to more interesting things.

The door clicked open. Kenma knew who it was. He could _smell_ who it was. Despite the traces of alcohol and that perfume, there would always be chocolate. Kenma shuddered under the thick blanket. It was cold and he had been trembling for a while now. He could have gone to bed, but he wanted to keep playing Breath of the Wild. 

“Hey, I’m home. I got food. You mind ice cream?” Kuroo said. He looked the same, though slightly red, and his movements were more loose than usual. Did he drive home like that? It was a miracle he managed to get home in that state. 

“It’s okay,” Kenma said, pausing the game and getting up, wrapped in the blanket. 

“Hey, you’re using it!” Kuroo sounded pleased. He was carrying a plastic bag from a local convenience stores, which he set down on the coffee table. “You finished Monster Hunter?” 

“Well, you can’t finish it.There’s technically no endgame,” he mumbled. “But that’s a good thing,” Kenma walked over to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water. He set it down on the coffee table with the ice cream. Kuroo was sitting on the floor, his legs crossed. Kenma sat on the couch but the alpha beckoned him to sit with him, so he did. Their knees were touching. 

“Cold?” Kuroo asked him. “Maybe ice cream was a bad idea,” 

Kenma shook his head. “It’s fine. This just happens sometimes,” 

“Huh. The AC’s not on, though. You get cold easily?” 

“...Yeah,” he said after a while. He didn’t want to admit it, but it was too obvious to hide at this point. The alpha stared at him and spread his arms. 

“Wanna hug? I’m pretty warm right now,” He looked serious. 

He hesitated, and that was all Kuroo needed to lower his arms. He laughed and ruffled Kenma’s hair. 

“Didn’t think so,” he grinned. “Ice cream’s melting, if you still want it,” 

Somehow he felt bad about that. It was no missed opportunity because he didn’t want to get any closer to a Kuroo who had all sorts of mixed scents, mixed signals. Not a Kuroo who reeked of alcohol, because he had an inkling of a feeling the alpha would be more honest with his intentions. And right now, the grinning Kuroo looked disappointed. 

He looked at the ice cream cups. It was a choice between salted caramel or black sesame, and he chose the latter. He preferred the sweeter black sesame flavor because sometimes the other ice cream was too salty. Kuroo took the salted caramel and they started eating it quietly.

After a while, Kuroo pointed at the glass. “What’s that for?” 

“...For you,” he said. 

He didn’t know what he said in particular that made Kuroo smile an actual smile. No trace of condescension or smugness in his face. Kenma held his breath; the sight was dizzying, and he was silent as Kuroo thanked him and took hungry gulps. Droplets of water ran down his neck, and when he finished with a satisfied sigh, he wiped his mouth with his forearm. Kenma gulped, feeling quite thirsty himself.  
“Whew, that cleared my head a bit,” he said, brushing his fringe. Kenma found it amusing because there really was no fixing it; it just sprung back in place no matter what. “So a guy like you can be thoughtful too, huh?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kenma frowned at him. 

“Nothing~” He stuck his tongue out, “I’m just surprised, y’know? Thanks.”

“You said that already.” 

“Hah, did I? My old age must be getting to me~” Kuroo rubbed his eyes. He finished the rest of his ice cream like he did with the water by gulping it down. 

“How old are you, anyway?” Kenma asked. 

“27 now, turning 28 this November 17. Oho, that’s not too far off now, huh. How about you?”

“26, 27 on October 16,” 

Kuroo grinned like he just discovered an interesting fact. It made Kenma’s stomach feel weird, so he wrapped himself tighter in the blanket. “Month and a day, that’s one plus one,” he said, raising two index fingers together, wiggling them. 

Kenma looked at him odd. “What are you talking about? You’re drunk, Kuro.” 

The alpha laughed, touching his own face. “Am I? God you’re right, my face is so hot right now. Could you get me another glass?” 

He nodded and got up. When he got back, Kuroo was resting his head on the couch, face turned up at the ceiling. Kenma called out to him, but he didn’t respond. He tried it again, but the alpha was unresponsive. He was breathing though, so he hadn’t died, or anything. 

“Kuro,” Kenma held the glass above his face. “Get up. If you don’t, I’ll spill this on you,” 

Kuroo didn’t move, but Kenma saw the corner of his eyes flutter, and his lips twitch just a bit. 

_‘This little bitch,’_ Kenma thought to himself, tilting the glass. He was only going to let out a little bit, just a couple drops to make it seem like he was serious. Then his phone rang and he accidentally spilled it all over him, jostling Kuroo upright.

“Kenma, what the _fuck?!_ ” He sputtered out, coughing a some water entered his nose.

“Wait,” he put the glass down on the table and dug into his pockets for his phone. “It’s Akaashi,” he told the alpha, who was wiping off the water from his face. It was rare for Akaashi to call at this time. He was either asleep by then, or extremely busy for work. Mostly the latter. “Hello?” 

_“Kenma,”_ He sounded really stressed out. He was speaking like he was on his last breath. Kenma put some distance between himself and Kuroo. 

“What is it? Where are you?” He could barely wait for the response. It suddenly felt hot being under the blanket, so he let go

 _“G-going home. I just-- I did a… I think I… Did something. Something stupid.”_

“C-calm down,” he told Akaashi. Kenma sure wasn’t, but he’ll try to soothe Akaashi. “Deep breaths. Tell me what happened.” 

Akaashi took a few gulps of air. It sounded like somebody asked him if he was okay and the beta told them he was alright. Once he was settled, he exhaled loudly. _“He confessed to me. Kou... Bokuto.”_

“Bokuto?!” He couldn’t help raise his voice. Behind him, Kuroo cursed. It was like somebody knocked the wind out of his lungs. He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t expect Bokuto of all people! What’s more, an alpha and a beta? 

_“Yes.”_

Kenma swallowed. “...What did you say?” 

“Oi, you horned shithead!” 

Kenma whipped his head to Kuroo, who was looking extremely cross while on his phone. He frowned at the alpha.

 _“Was that Kuroo…?”_ Akaashi asked. Kenma gestured at Kuroo to be quiet. Kuroo blinked and nodded, heading for the kitchen. 

“Sorry, you were saying?”

 _”I told him I needed to think.”_

The omega thought it was a good decision, but could Akaashi have been pressured not to reject him because Bokuto was his boss? There were too many stories of the alpha’s impulsive rashness to ignore the possibility. Akaashi wasn't one to be swayed by such things, but Bokuto could easily make his life hell-- work, or personal. 

_”I also told him that I was okay with it. The idea of an 'us.'”_  
“What.” stunned, Kenma rest his head against a wall. The room was spinning. He felt like he had missed out on the last three years of his life. Akaashi… was _okay_ with it? 

“What?!” Kuroo yelled from the other room. It seemed Kuroo himself was also just receiving the news. 

“Akaashi, why?” 

_“I… I don’t know. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.”_

THe omega didn’t speak for a while. Akaashi called out to him thrice. 

Kenma took a deep breath to settle himself. Finally, he asked: “Do you even like him?” 

And without hesitation Akaashi told him, “I do. I think I do. But this is complicated. That’s why I needed time to think. That’s why it was stupid of me to tell him we had a chance. What if I have to tell him we can’t? He must be overjoyed right now, and I-I don’t want to ruin that for him. But he should worry about his future more. A future that might not have me in it.”

Kenma felt gripped. On one hand, he was glad Akaashi shared Bokuto’s feelings. Only now did he realize all that time Akaashi spent complaining to him about Bokuto were worries, after all. Akaashi wanted Bokuto to succeed and be happy. Now that Akaashi had the chance to _be_ that happiness, he’d support it. 

However, Akaashi also had a point. It wasn’t that easy to get together; to just exchange ‘I like you’, and to kiss and declare each other as partners. Akaashi had to worry about his status and more expectations, and the fact he could easily be seen as somebody sleeping around with their boss to get ahead. He didn’t want that for his friend, who deserved so much better.

Ahh, his head was hurting. It’s like his body had been replaced with lead. He picked up the blanket, wrapping himself in it again, and walked to the couch, nestling in his corner. 

“What will you do now?”

 _“I’ll give it a few days. I don’t think I can sleep tonight.”_ Akaashi sniffed. _“Work is going to be hell tomorrow morning. I don’t want to act strange and ruin anything.”_

“Akaashi,” Kenma paused, thinking what else to say. He wanted to say something to make his friend feel better. Anything at all. “You know, you… You deserve to be happy, too.” He meant it, he really did.

 _“Ke… Please don’t say that. Not while I’m in a taxi.”_ The beta exhaled shakily. He was sniffing. _“I don’t think I--”_

“You do.” Kenma insisted. He hesitated with each word like he was searching in the dark. “Even if, it’s difficult... You should try. Try and be happy.”

The taxi driver told Akaashi they had arrived. Akaashi didn’t reply to him until he got out of the car. Before he said anything, he let out a soft sob. _“Kenma, what did I ever do for you to say that?”_

“Nothing. You’re just a person who happens to be my friend, and you deserve happiness.” 

Akaashi laughed. “Okay, okay. I can’t take any more of this sweetness from you, can you please just roast me now?”

Kenma was glad he made him laugh. That meant he cheered him up, right? “You played yourself by liking Bokuto, I can’t possibly top that.” 

The beta laughed again. “You’re right, I did. I really did. Thank you, Kenma. I feel better now.” 

“It’s no big deal,” he murmured, suddenly getting shy. Warmth was gathering at his cheeks and spreading throughout his body. 

“Is Kuroo still there?” 

Kenma glanced at the kitchen. Kuroo was still talking on the phone, quiet animatedly. “Yeah, he is, he’s on the phone,”

“Ah, It must be Bokuto. In that case, I’ll be hanging up now, it’s very late. I hope to see you soon, Kenma.”

“Mmm.”

Before he ended the call, Akaashi told him: “You should also follow your own advice. Goodbye.” Then he hung up. Kenma thought about it, but not for long. 

It appeared Kuroo also finished his call as he went over and plopped himself right next to Kenma. His shirt was still soaked, clinging to his skin and his form. Kenma looked away. It was getting hotter in the blanket. 

“So,” Kuroo started, “ _That,_ huh? Bokuto told me the news. Didn’t expect it to happen that soon, y’know?” 

“When were you expecting it?” Kenma asked, gulping. 

“Tomorrow, when they’re at work. We talked about it a while ago, I told him to grow up and tell Akaashi the next time they met. Who knew Akaashi would be at his house, huh? Horned idiot actually did it.”

He chuckled.

Kenma nodded along, not really listening. His head was turning fuzzy. Kuroo kept talking about this and that, but he couldn’t actually focus even if he wanted to. Now there was something pooling at his stomach, an all-too familiar feeling. 

He thought he still had at least two days left. 

Kuroo was still talking. He had moved on to the topic of his shirt now. “And look,” Kuroo pointed at himself. “You messed up my shirt. I was just sleepy, so that was unnecessary!” He unbuttoned it first, taking time to pop each button free before sliding the wet garment off of him. “But you sobered me up at least, so thanks, _I guess._ ” He balled it up, and Kenma could see each movement of his arm, his muscles. 

Ah, the smell of his skin. It worked like petrichor, revealing the undertones of chocolate after rain. He shivered, his hairs standing on end. He grit his teeth and tried compressing himself in his blanket as much as possible, using the thick fabric to cover his nose. Even breathing had to be stopped, or else. Goosebumps crawled over his skin, and he clenched his toes. Should he say something? But he felt if he let out a sound now, the only thing that would come out were whimpers. 

Beside him, Kuroo abruptly stopped talking. He turned to look at the omega, small and trembling in his blanket. Kuroo slapped a hand over his nose, but didn’t back away. Kenma could hear him breathing hard, _hissing_ through his fingers. 

“Oi, oi, this is unfair,” he grunted, a tight fist forming in his other hand. “Kenma, you…” 

“D-don’t,” He managed to say at last. Speaking felt like a waste of breath, because all his body wanted to do was inhale, inhale, inhale all of Kuroo in. He couldn’t tell if the alpha was listening to him, because Kuroo had leaned over, his head pressed against Kenma’s neck. He gripped Kenma’s shoulders, pressing them together closely, inhaling like there was no tomorrow. Kuroo’s breath tickled against his neck, and he bit down on his lip to stop himself from moaning. The reaction of skin against skin was nothing he had ever experienced. His hands were against the alpha’s chest, feebly pressing him back. He had no strength, not against him. “Kuro,” he shuddered at calling out his name. 

Kuroo flinched away from him with a snarl. “Shit,” he growled, interrupted from something he shouldn’t have been doing. He was panting, his body tensed and poised towards Kenma. Without warning, he scooped Kenma up in his arms and lifted him off the couch. The omega didn’t protest-- he couldn’t protest, not when he was concerned with curling up as much as possible inside the blanket. It was his only line of defense against an alpha affected by heat.

He was being carried upstairs quickly; Kuroo didn’t hesitate to take two stairs at a time. He didn’t seem to weigh anything to Kuroo. It was a terrible thing right now, the strength he possessed. He could do anything he wished. Anything beyond what the omega could imagine. Kenma wondered if he bit down on his tongue hard enough, he’d wake up and it was some sort of heat-induced fever dream. He was so stupid to have missed the signs! He wasn’t trembling from the chills, he was trembling from the direct opposite of that! He had nothing to blame but the alpha pheromones. The proxy they started because he had been in danger was a danger itself. He hated it, and he hated how his body was willing to melt in Kuroo’s arms that moment. 

Kuroo kicked open a door. Kenma expected the worst. To be thrown down onto a bed and to be stripped bare. He held onto his blanket so tightly, his palms hurt from the nails he dug into his own skin, and his knuckles ached from having been gripped for so long. 

Kenma was laid over a bed without the force he was expecting. It was gentle. Too gentle; it was disarming. Kuroo’s hands lingered over his body before pulling away. He dared to look at the alpha, expecting him to tear the blankets off his trembling body, then his clothes, and then his dignity. 

Kuroo stood over him, tall and imposing. He was exuding his scent, stronger than ever which was affecting Kenma all the more. The alpha was looking back at him, his expression dark and scowled. He almost looked angry.

“Kenma.”

He jolted and retreated into his blankets. It was dark and hot under, and he could smell his own minty scent. Not from the sweat, but from his arousal. He was unbelievably hard. When he endured his heats before, it was just like a fever with an erection half of the time, and he could alleviate himself any way he wanted. It was different with an alpha so close in the room; as if he had been dropped head-first into cold water. Kenma couldn’t move anything, he was just stuck there, helpless, too hot, unbearably aroused, and scared. 

“I don’t like this,” Kuroo told him. “This is too easy,” 

What did he mean by that? What was too easy about this? It was easy for an alpha, but for an omega like him who had to endure being taken, it was far from easy. 

Kuroo turned around and headed for the door. 

“You can’t possibly tell me what you want like this,” he said, like it frustrated him. If it made him so frustrated, why not just go for it? It would be so easy to take him now, when he was in his heat-- when he was _willing_ to be treated that way for now. Things like these were to be expected, anyway. It’s not like Kenma could do anything about it. 

“Ten minutes.” The alpha told him. Was it a warning? Kenma doesn’t understand. Kuroo left the room without another word. When the door swung closed, only then did Kenma realize he was in his own room. He groaned as he flipped on his stomach, and gripped his erection through his sweatpants. At his own touch, he moaned into the sheets, muffling his noises. He didn’t like hearing how pathetic he was, making these uncharacteristic noises just because his body told him to. It felt good, and Kenma was ashamed about that, so he slipped his hand through the waistband of his clothes and touched himself directly. 

“A-ahh..” He shuddered. The tip of his cock was dripping with precum, making it easier for him to pump his fist up and down his shaft. Kenma kicked against the mattress, his back arching over so that he was on all fours, but with a hand stroking himself.

He’ll only think of this for the ten minutes he was alone. He wanted Kuroo. Right now, he wanted his hand to be Kuroo’s. Kuroo should be leaned over him, keeping him down and jerking him off. He’ll admit that much right now, and the reason he’ll allow it is because the pheromones were causing him to think about the messy dark hair, hazel eyes, and shit-eating grin. Just imagining the alpha caused a whimper from Kenma as he stroked harder. He lowered his face into the sheets, letting his other hand wander between his buttocks, pressing against the entrance through the cloth. This part was wet too. 

He wanted to take the blanket and his clothes off. The heat was suffocating, and having his face in the mattress to mute his own moans wasn’t helping. It fueled him. The heat, and his heat, he wanted it over and done with. He was stroking harder, wanting to cum and get a moment’s reprieve from Kuroo. He wanted to stop wanting. He _needed_ to stop wanting or else. In his mind, not even the made-up Kuroo in his head deserved the satisfaction of being there when he came. In his head, Kuroo was still gripping him, the alpha appearing in snapshots like the first time he saw him shirtless. Toned arms holding the sides of his body. The broad shoulders pressed against his back. The puff of breaths and cheeky grin against his ticklish neck. It was impossible to process it all at once, dizzying, and absolutely overwhelming. 

Or maybe he just wasn’t letting himself think of the alpha as a full person, just as parts and pieces, because the Kuroo he knew was something apart from the Kuroo he was using to jerk off.

Kenma was approaching his climax. He grunted as he sped up his pumping, circling the flat of his thumb against his tip. The fingers against his entrance were grinding, but never entering. He twitched all over, heaving against the mattress. His consciousness was nothing more than a hazy mess. His surroundings were a blur; the room was ringing, his whole body was on fire, and he was stroking himself more vigorously, his toes curling as he neared his limit. With a choked cry, the omega orgasmed, splattering his hand with cum. His entrance puckered around his fingers. He fell on his side, gasping for air. 

Kenma was absolutely spent. 

He lifted the blanket up to let some air cool him. No, his body was not yet satisfied, but having low stamina had its perks. After he came was usually a grace period of a few minutes before it got up again. Normally those five minutes were spent trying to get his breath back. This time he spent it in a stupor of shame. 

He jerked off to Kuroo. And he liked it. It was vivid, and he liked it. Thankfully, his whole body was as red as an apple, effectively disguising a blush that would have inevitable shown up on his face. A blush that nobody could see or make fun of, so he was stuck in his own embarrassment. 

_‘No, no, no,’_ Kenma shook his head at the ceiling. _‘Clearly that was just a lie. A lie my heat-induced brain made up, specifically, to fuck me over._

Kuroo fucking him over. A strange feeling jolted up his spine, sending shivers throughout. Hazel eyes and cheeky grin. 

There came a knock on the door. 

“Kenma? I’m coming in.” 

_‘No. Don’t. Please.’_ Kenma begged in his head. Unfortunately, Kuroo went in anyway, because this one was real. He drew the blanket over himself again, glaring at the ground by the alpha’s feet. Eye contact was out of the question here. 

Oh, this was horrible. His skin felt like it was being electrified again. 

“Kenma,” Kuroo stopped a meter away from his bed. “Where are your meds?” 

“B-bag,” he mumbled into the blanket. 

Kuroo fetched it for him. He leaned over the omega, using his hand to help him sit up. Kenma had to hold back a moan as he was touched. His body felt like glass threatening to shatter if Kuroo went any further than this.

The alpha didn’t. No, Kenma knew he wasn’t going to, because at the time he was close enough to smell it, Kuroo’s pheromones were gone. The omega felt a disappointment similar to taking a sip from a glass on a hot day, only to discover there was barely a mouthful left, and the small amount he had taken in only reminded him how much more he wanted. Kenma leaned close to him, sniffing, searching for more of his pheromones. Only traces of it remained, but nothing like earlier when the alpha was exuding it. 

Kuroo gently pried him away and raised a pill to his lips. Kenma opened his mouth, his lips puckering slightly against the fingers, sucking. The pill was already in his mouth, but he was still sucking. The alpha pulled it away, his eyes twitching at the soft ‘pop’ it made. 

“H-here,” The alpha kept stammering as he offered Kenma water.

He gulped it, alongside the pill. When he drank half of it, Kuroo pulled it away from him, screwing the cap over and placing it over the bedside table. He was oddly calm now, compared to earlier when his movements were more frantic and tense. There was no reaction from him either, despite the pheromones wafting around them. All the more it was odd because an alpha should be able to detect of an omega’s seed. 

“I’m going now, ‘kay? Don’t leave your room.” Kuroo told him. He did just that, leaving Kenma sitting on the bed, feeling half-fuzzy, half-confused, but overall relieved. Because of Kuroo, who didn’t take advantage of his compromised state, and who gave him his medicine, he wouldn’t have to suffer through the entirety of his heat. 

The locks on his door were completely useless.

\--- 

When Kenma woke up, his head had subsided and his head hurt. That was a side-effect of the heat suppressants. Since it affected the nerves, he expected to be acting off. By no means was it a good thing as it interfered with his daily life, but his daily life was substantially different now.

He checked his phone. It was 1:52PM, well into the afternoon. While sleeping he must have kicked the blanket off, but his clothes were stuck to him, making him feel uncomfortably warm and moist. He rolled over with a groan to get bathed. Upon stripping in the bathroom, he grimaced at the mess in his pants. 

Those were going to have to go. Along with the blankets. Hell, even his bedsheets. If he could, he’d remove all traces of last night ever happening, burn down the whole room and the memory of it, and he’d do it in a heartbeat. He dumped them in the hamper. He’d have to do his laundry after a bath. 

He took a very cold shower. Nevermind the chattering teeth and pinking fingertips. Nevermind how tightly he was curling up in the tub. Cold was better, better than remembering the heat of last night. The only warmth he deserved came from the friction of rubbing his skin raw as he soaped himself. 

Kenma emerged from the bathroom pink and shivering like a newborn animal. He quickly changed into his trademark layers, and a pair of thick socks. With layers, it made it easier to hide his smell. He doubted there was any because of the pills, but he had to be sure. Now fully clothed and dried, he carried his hamper downstairs with the lid on tight. He could still smell mint.

He noted on the way downstairs that Kuroo wasn’t present. He was glad because he didn’t know how he’d act, or if he could even make eye contact. It was all so weird, being caught in his most vulnerable state, and Kuroo somehow… not reacting as he expected. It wasn’t as if he _wanted_ to be taken; his imagination and reality were two different things that should never combine, so he was actually pretty grateful. He felt something was lodged in his throat, which meant he had to say-- to _thank_ Kuroo for not raping him. 

He quickly loaded up the laundry. He knew how to clean up after himself, at least. All omegas did. 

Now that laundry was over with, Kenma was suddenly hungry. He made his way for the kitchen, wanting to fix himself up a simple meal. Maybe some eggs? The apple pie was gone, and he didn’t want to go and use up any of the more expensive-looking ingredients. Surely an egg or two would go unnoticed. Kenma opened the fridge and took what he needed. He turned around, looking for a pan and was met with a person wearing a gas mask. 

He dropped the eggs. They cracked over the floor, yolk and white all runny over the tiles. 

“Oi Kenma, that was such a waste!” The masked man said, pointing at the floor. He wore less of a gas mask, and more of a respirator mask, the type that people in white hazmat suits wore. The face had a clear covering, confirming it was Kuroo's-- shit-eating grin included.

Kenma stared at him, more dumbfounded than he could possibly be embarrassed. “...Huh?” Why was he wearing a gas mask? 

Kuroo was already grabbing some paper towels. The blonde realized the mess and started helping him by gathering the egg shells and disposing them in the trash. He couldn’t stop staring at Kuroo the whole time with confusion. 

When the mess had been cleared, Kuroo began lecturing him on how he should be more careful around the kitchen, especially since leaving mess out could attract ants. 

“See, the ants leave chemical trails that lead the other ants…”

It all went in one ear and out the other. Kenma was still staring at him, gas mask and all. 

He waved his hand a little to get his attention. “H-hey, Kuro…”

“Hm, what?”

Kenma gestured at his own face, “the gas mask…?”

“Oya, this? Sometimes I get paranoid about outbreaks, so I actually have a full hazmat suit lying around.”

Biochemists and outbreaks sounded very interesting, but not what he wanted to know. Kenma shook his head. “Why, though?”

“Ehh…” He rubbed his neck. “Precautions. Y’know, last night.” 

The omega frowned. That statement pissed him off. He went silent.

“O-oi, Kenma?” Kuroo looked concerned.

“Kuro,” though his voice was calm, he felt the direct opposite. “The last thing I want is to be treated like I have the plague.” 

“Oh.”

 _Oh,_ he said. Yeah, the alpha probably forgot he didn’t ask for heat cycles. He probably forgot it was normal for omegas. After all, they didn’t have to deal with anything like that. He continued, “It’s not like I could help it. Alphas like you wouldn’t understand. It’s just so easy for you guys, isn’t it?” 

Kuroo looked hurt. “Kenma, come on… I’m trying to be careful, here! It’s just bio--”

“Please,” he grit his teeth, “don’t try to use science to justify your actions. Don’t patronize me.” He _knew_ it was biology! Hell, they’ve been taught nothing but their own biology since high school, and how their biology put them at a disadvantage, that they were nothing but birthing vessels, or objects to be coveted. He understood Kuroo was trying to be ‘careful’ but treating him like some biohazard to society didn’t do him shit. 

The alpha swallowed. He sighed, and slipped off the mask. “I’m sorry.” he said, bowing his head.

He doesn’t think he’d ever get used to the sight; an alpha bowing, apologizing at an omega. It’s like the whole world was shifting, and he didn’t know how to deal with it other than to turn his head away. “Whatever,” he muttered, hoping that would be the end of it. 

Still, Kuroo was persistent. “It’s not ‘whatever,’ I really am sorry. Let me make it up to you.” 

How could he possibly make it up to him? Kenma wracked his head for ideas. “I-I don’t know,” he admitted. Then after, “Make me food.”

Kuroo let out a relieved breath. He smiled at Kenma. “Got it, got it. What do you want?” 

Kenma stared at him. “...An omelette. And tell me why are your pheromones are weird.”

“With cheese, or-- say, what?

“You heard me.” Kenma headed for the dining table and took a seat. "With cheese."

Kuroo scratched his head, looking troubled. “Mmm, I'm regretting this now. I can do the omelette, but I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?” Kenma frowned at him. 

“I _legally_ can’t tell you.”

 _“What?”_ Was he in on some sort of top secret government research facility? He doubted it, if Bokuto was involved. The gray-haired alpha didn’t seem like the type to be able to keep small secrets, let alone a top-secret. 

“You heard me,” Kuroo shot back at him. “It’s…” He dragged the ‘s’ through his teeth. “Confidential.”

Obviously. “Of course,” Kenma muttered. “Of course it is.”

“I’m serious!” Kuroo insisted.

“Tell me what isn’t confidential.” 

“Ugh, Kenma don’t be difficult…” 

“Shut up, gas mask.” 

Kuroo flinched. He made a face like he wanted to say something back, but held his tongue. “Look, you’re getting the fluffiest goddamn omelette you’ve ever had in your life. After that, I will answer any question _except_ for that one thing, okay?” 

Kenma glowered at him, but didn’t say anything more. He only watched Kuroo, glaring daggers at the alpha while he began to whip up an omelette. Ten minutes later, the alpha set down a fork and a plate of the jiggliest omelette he had ever seen. It stayed wobbling on the table, oozing with cheese, steaming, and smelling delicious. Kenma licked his lips and glared at it like it was poison. 

“Can’t you be nicer to the food? It didn’t do anything wrong,” 

“But you did,” He said.

“Shut up and eat, god,”

“You’re not my dad,” Kenma said, grabbing the fork and eating anyway.

Kuroo rolled his eyes. “Nutrition is important, y’know? You’re lacking protein. Aaaand just about every nutrient.” He pointed at him. “Good, right?”

Kenma chewed the hot omelette gently, enjoying the taste and texture, but not Kuroo’s face in particular. Kuroo on the other hand, was enjoying himself somehow.

“See? you think it’s good~” 

“I don’t,” he mumbled, taking another piece. It was good, but he wasn’t going to say it. 

“You do,” Kuroo’s shit-eating grin widened. “Psh, your face tells me _everything_ I need to know. You like it, admit it~”

“I don’t,” he repeated. 

“You do, you do~” Kuroo teased.

Kenma grunted. “What are you, some sort of wannabe mind-reader?” He wondered about that now, since he couldn’t ask about the other issue. 

“Oh, finally, a question!” The alpha looked more smug than ever. “Y’see, I used to play volleyball.”

_‘What the hell is that supposed to--’_

“And you’re probably thinking, ‘what’s that got to do with anything’, right? Well I was what you’d call a ‘middle blocker.’ As a blocker, I have to read people’s body language and other signs to know exactly when to jump so I can intercept the ball.” 

He was kind of miffed his thoughts were so easily predicted. “Volleyball?” Kenma asked, annoyed but piqued. Well it explained quite a bit. Kuroo certainly did have the physique for it. He knew volleyball players had to be tall to jump and spike, but that was the extent of his knowledge on the sport.

“Yeah, you play?” Kuroo leaned over, looking excited. 

Kenma shook his head. It was a new expression from Kuroo, and he looked away. “We were… not encouraged to play sports.” He mumbled.

Kuroo’s expression faltered a little. “Ah, issat so? Well, if you ever wanna learn, I can teach you. Been a while since Bo and I got to play.”

Kenma shook his head. “No way, I don’t like getting tired.” 

“Don’t worry about it, you kind of strike me as a setter-type of person. Those guys are the strategist of the games because they get to ‘set’ the ball for the other players to use. They find weaknesses in formations and blocking, and use that to their advantage to get points. Plus, they usually don’t move around too much!” he said, smiling.

Kuroo sounded like he really enjoyed talking about volleyball. He wondered why he ‘used’ to play. He wouldn’t say that the enthusiasm was contagious, but he couldn’t help feeling interested. The way he put it made it seem like volleyball was a sport with more strategic nuance to it, and less of some guys trying to hit a ball over a net. “Mmmm,” he thought about it, a little. “It’s impossible,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not suited for sports.” 

“You still sound interested, though. Instead of playing then, why don’t we watch?” 

He looked up from the omelette. “Eh?” 

“I have a couple recordings from my uni days, from when Bo and I used to play. Finish eating, and I’ll get my laptop.” Kuroo ruffled his head as he walked past, looking somewhat… happier? Kenma couldn’t quite pin it down specifically, but the air around Kuroo had changed. From this smug guy who'd probably laugh at your misfortune to something like a kid excited to show off his bug collection. The change was striking. Kenma wanted to see more.

He decided now to use Kuroo’s own game against him: observation. The alpha was full of pressing mysteries he couldn’t pry into, but Kenma could be as perceptive as well. Though he never actually used his overt awareness of others to _know_ about them, just to avoid or deal with them. Maybe the passive nature would escape the alpha. Kuroo was opening up to him just a bit, and Kenma was willing to slip past those defenses, and figure out why exactly his pheromones worked like that. If he ‘legally’ couldn’t tell Kenma, Kenma would just have to deduce it for himself.

Kuroo returned downstairs. He looked excited, with his tongue sticking out from his mouth. He set up his laptop on the coffee table, and waved Kenma over with a wide smile. 

The omega finished eating, leaving a bit more than half of the omelette. It really was the fluffiest goddamn omelette he had ever tasted, but Kenma, unexpectedly, was moving on to more interesting things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's chapter 11! It's been a while since I wrote mature things so I hoped that went well;; Thanks for all the support :D


	14. Closely Observe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma and Kuroo watch some volleyball, and play Mario Kart. Later, a game of Resident Evil: Biohazard allows Kenma to admit he doesn't hate Kuroo.

Kuroo and Bokuto used to play for their alma mater, Kamigawa University. 

“Kamigawa?” Kenma heard of that university before. It was top-ranking, especially as an alpha-only university. He was surprised Bokuto got in.

“Yeah. It’s not ‘river-god’, but more of ‘god's river’, or so. It fits the team pretty well. We’ll go with the flow of the enemy, but once the river rampages, there’s no stopping it.”

That actually sounded pretty cool. 

“Was it just Bokuto you met there?”

“Nah, nah. There's guys like Oika’a who I met with yesterday, and Sa’amura. That’s Sa’amura Daichi, Suga’s husband.”

“Suga… From Hedera?” Huh. That's the first alpha-beta couple he knew about. He didn’t expect that. Depending on the situation, Akaashi and Bokuto could be the second. 

He snapped his fingers. “Bingo~ Daichi’s our team captain. Gotta admire the guy, real calm but knows us, and knows when to whip us into place.” Kuroo clicked around on the laptop, opening a file labeled ‘Practice Match vs NEU’, dated over 5 years ago. The video featured tall volleyball players, all fit and well-built alphas in two different-colored uniforms, Kamigawa wearing black with blue accents, and NEU with maroon with gold accents. They were lined up at the edges of the wide court, then they greeted each other and got into position. Kuroo paused the video.

“There, see? That’s me and Bo, and Oika'a,” He pointed at two figures. Kenma noted that other than a slight change in physique (they were younger then, had less mass on them,) they looked exactly the same: Kuroo with his spiky mess of raven hair, and Bokuto with his two-tone hair stuck up at two ends. He didn’t know Oikawa, but he was your typical good-looking guy, with something of a cocky air to him. They weren’t the only interesting members, however.. One of the them was extremely short-- around 5’2” or 5’3”. He had a blonde streak of hair at the front and a confident look to him despite his height. He even had a differently-colored uniform. 

“That guy… He’s so short,” Kenma pointed at him, wondering just how somebody like that found their way on the court. "How does he play?" 

“Hey, don’t underestimate him! That’s Nishinoya, a pretty cool dude. Hard to believe he’s an alpha at that height, but trust me, he’s got more than the guts to be one. He’s the god of receives on our side!” 

Kenma wondered if he had a special role. Short, noticeable, and looking extremely ill-fitted for a sport that required a lot of jumping. How could he confidently put himself out there? The Nishinoya took position atthe back row. Kuroo and Bokuto were right in front of the net; Bokuto at Kuroo’s left, and a scary-looking guy with white hair at his right. 

“That’s Aone,” he said. “Guy’s got craaaazy fast reflexes for kill-blocking.”

“Kill-blocking?” Kenma asked. He imagined something violent. Would Aone smash the ball into another person’s face? 

Kuroo seemed to brighten up at his questions. He was enthusiastic to explain it all, using segments of the video to demonstrate or emphasize his point. He was told that kill-blocking was when a spiker’s ball would be blocked back to their own court, scoring the blocking team a point. 

Kenma liked how most was what he explained was easy to understand, and it didn’t sound annoying even though Kuroo was clearly very into the sport. His enthusiasm wasn’t contagious, but it was engaging instead. They continued watching, and Kenma noticed that as a player, Kuroo wasn’t like Aone who was directly blocking the ball.

“Hey Kuro, how come you’re not always kill-blocking the ball?” It made more sense to do that, since it was an instant point for the team. 

Kuroo grinned and Kenma felt like he had been baited into asking the question. “Why that’s a fine little question, Kenma~ You see, blocking isn't always about kill-blocks. Like I said, there’s more nuance to it.” He used to video to demonstrate again. 

“Remember Nishinoya?” He pointed to that short member wearing reverse-colors, a blue jersey with black accents. As an NEU player spiked past Kuroo’s arms, it landed directly into his arms. “He’s the libero. They’re integral to the defense of the whole team and are restricted to the back row. They’re not allowed to spike or do anything past the attack line as they’re absolutely devoted to receives.” 

Kenma watched as the ball bounced off the libero’s forearms, flying a perfect arc right into the waiting hands of Oikawa. 

“And Oika'a,” Kuroo tapped the screen, “is our setter.” 

Just as Kuroo said, the setter was in a position where they weren’t moving unlike the rest of the team. As the ball landed in their hands, the pretty-boy pushed the ball away from him. He heard the loud slam before he could process it. 

“Huh?” He turned to Kuroo for clues. The alpha grinned again, replaying it at a slower speed. The ball went from here to there, and suddenly blasted away by Bokuto. 

“‘Kay, lemme explain to you the setup, and why I’m not always striving for kill-blocks. Y’see, kill blocks aren’t always possible. They’re mostly ideal, sure, but then you’d be limiting your offense, which you need to score. Check my position,”

Kenma looked. Instead of three blockers there were only two. It turns out to be deliberate, as Bokuto was waiting on another side of the court. An NEU player spiked, they aimed for the spot past Kuroo’s arm, but right into the libero, who received the ball, perfectly delivering it to the setter. Then came the crazy move where, in a blink of an eye, Oikawa set the ball to Bokuto, who ran, jumped, and pummeled the ball into the other side of the court. The sound reverberated throughout the gym. The NEU team were all still, and the referee awarded Kamigawa with a point, bringing the score to 24 - 19, or a ‘set point’ as Kuroo put it. 

“That number 8 saw that not all blockers were jumping, took the shot, but with the positioning of my arms going right up at his spike's trajectory, I baited them into doing a cross-spike at the libero, who gave it to the setter, who set for the spiker. And _that_ is how kill blocks aren’t the only way to score.” 

Bokuto was screaming his signature ‘hey, hey, hey’ in slow motion. 

Kenma felt queasy. He didn’t know Bokuto was capable of such strength. It sounded like he would obliterate the arms of anyone who tried receiving the spike. Kuroo played that sort of dangerous game? And _enjoyed_ it?

The alpha snorted beside him. Kenma gave him an odd look.

“Sorry, it’s just that, the face you made is totally saying ‘what the fuck’ right now, bahaha!” 

He glowered at Kuroo’s casual silliness. The other didn’t seem to mind and they continued watching videos and Kenma listening to explanations. It was a more complicated sport, as he suspected. He never thought there were things like decoys, one-touches, wipes, and feints. Actually, he felt a little embarrassed he underestimated the sport. It was just like his games that appeared simple on the surface, but had more to it underneath. He was glad Kuroo was there to explain it to him, and be nice enough about it.

The practice match with the NEU player ended after a match consisting of 5 sets where Kamigawa won, best of 3 sets. The video ends after they all lined up to shake hands. 

“So what did you think?” he asked.

“Mmm,” Kenma thought about his answer for a bit. “There’s more to it than I thought,” he said. 

“Right?” The alpha was grinning from ear to ear. Kenma’s face turned hot, so he looked down instead. “What’s wrong?” Kuroo asked.

Kenma shook his head. “Let’s watch another,” he told him. 

Kuroo was all too happy to comply. He opened another video, this time an official recording of a match. 

“This was during nationals, when I was in my second year. This tournament was tough as all hell. Bo and I were practically walking corpses outside of class trying to keep up with studies and practice. That, and that bastard Oika’a had the balls to try and drag us out to party,” he muttered the last bit, his face scowled like he was recalling a painful memory. "That guy would annoy you into doing anything for him,"

That sounded exhausting. Kenma had a faint feeling of dislike for Oikawa. Kuroo had weird friends. “How long have you and B-Bokuto known each other?” He asked. After all, he wan-- _needed_ to know more about Kuroo. For research purposes.

“Hmm?” Kuroo looked at him like something was suddenly intriguing. “Well~ He and I met each other during freshman year of uni. We were both trying out for the volley team, he started talking to me first, and we got along pretty well. I was a campus dormer and he wasn’t, but the absolute idiot actually went and pulled some strings so _we_ could be roommates, could you believe it?” The alpha laughed. 

Kenma could actually believe it. It wasn’t out of Bokuto’s character. He kept listening. 

“After that, we were roommates til we graduated, then coincidentally ended up working together. Let me just say though? After Bokuto, you’re pretty much the perfect roomie. Quiet, doesn’t mess up my stuff, and cleans up after himself, ”

Kenma flushed hearing the last bit. “But we’re not sleeping in one room,” he said. 

“Well, if you think of the house as a one big room, it _technically…_ ” He made a face to emphasize his nonsensical point.

Kenma snorted. “Kuro, that’s dumb. Just say housemates.” 

“Housemates, eh? I heard the contract says we’re technically boyfriends~”

Kenma choked on air and started coughing. Kuroo began patting his back frantically until he stopped coughing. He found himself pulled into an embrace, his hand over his mouth while he coughed against the alpha's broader chest.

“Holy shit,” the alpha sounded worried. “The idea's that bad, huh?”

Kenma found himself shaking his head. No, the idea of being mutually beneficial fake-boyfriends for wasn't bad. In fact, it's working out better than he had expected it to in the first place. But being reminded they were technically fake-dating, and not just two guys sharing pheromones and one roof took the wind out of his lungs. “N-no,” he choked out. “It's okay.” 

When his coughing subsided, Kuroo spoke.

“Hoo, so you're willing to date me, then?” 

His reply was immediate. “Not in a hundred years.”

“Thank god I'm thinking of living up to a hundred and fifty then~” 

Kenma smiled. “I think you will. God doesn't want you up there.”

Kuroo looked like somebody slapped his face. “Say what now? Since I'm staying a long time, better be glad I'm here to take care of you, then! You eat like an ant on a diet, I'm worried you'd just fall over and crumble to dust one day.”

“Nobody asked you to be worried,” Kenma mumbled, lowering his head. 

Kuroo stuck his tongue out. “My house, my rules~” 

Kenma frowned. He couldn't argue against that. “You really shouldn't,” 

“I'm a stubborn son of a bitch according to god, so I think I will~” 

Kenma couldn't understand why he was so insistent on treating him like that. It was embarrassing hearing people openly admit they cared. Especially if it was caring for _him._ He lowered his head again, the top of his head touching the alpha's chest once more. He didn't flinch when a hand came to rub his hair.

“Don't worry too much about it,” he said softly. 

“That doesn't help anyone,” Kenma muttered.

“In that case, keep watching with me?” 

It was hardly an equivalent exchange. But that's just how things went between them from the beginning. 

Kenma nodded and turned his attention back to the screen. 

They watched a couple more videos. Some of them were interviews (Kuroo and Bokuto were often featured together, Oikawa sometimes part) and occasionally Sawamura. Up close he looked extremely approachable and reliable that Kenma wondered how exactly a guy like that could reel in and tame the trio. Outside of court the regular members of Kamigawa were a ragtag bunch of clashing personalities, separating once the matches were over, appearing almost clique-ish. There were the loud and raucous (Kuroo, Bokuto, Oikawa, Nishinoya, and some others) contrasting with the quieter, more intimidating guys like the one he called Aone, and this other blocker, a blonde named Tsukishima.

“Tsukki here's my disciple, y'know?” He sounded proud.

Kenma doubted a guy who looked like everyone around him was stupid would appreciate being bothered by Kuroo. “...Willingly?” 

“Shut it,” Kuroo grumbled. Kenma held back a snort. “I taught that guy everything a blocker should know, ‘cause Aone's a shy giant. A ‘shyant’, if you will.”

The omega chuckled. “Your jokes are so dumb. You're so dumb.” 

Kuroo put his chin on Kenma's head, grinding down on the omega's dark roots. “Hah? Me, dumb? I have a master's in biochemistry, so shut the fuck up.”

Kenma grunted as the chin began digging on his scalp. He put his hands up, pushing against Kuroo's jaw. “Kuro, stop,” he groaned. 

“I'll stop when you take it back~” He pressed back.

“Stop being immature…” Kenma looked up, pushing him away again. His hands barely did anything, because Kuroo brought his chin back down, anyway.

“You started it!” 

That was true. Damn. “...whatever.” he mumbled, releasing his hands. Kuroo stopped digging, at least. 

They continued watching videos like that, Kenma sitting between Kuroo's legs, and Kuroo using him as some sort of support. It happened so naturally, Kenma was defenseless against the appeal. Like this, they were warm,and they fit like perfect pieces of a puzzle together. He didn't even mind Kuroo's head on top of his; nor did their touching feel awkward. He didn't feel like it was awkward from the alpha either, seeing that his legs were pressed against his as they lay stretched over the carpet and under the coffee table.

Kuroo was against him, like this. Kenma's back against his chest. Like his imaginations from last night.

Fuck.

He tensed up, and Kuroo felt it.

“What's wrong?” He asked, in a soft tone. His breath puffed against Kenma's ear. Kenma hated his opportunistic concern. He didn't reply. “Kenma?” Kuroo repeated.

“Pheromones,” he muttered.

Kuroo tensed up as well. “Should I move? I'll move,” he began to stand up.

“Don't. Nothing's happening,” Kenma said, touching his leg to halt him. The heat suppressants made sure nothing was happening. “I meant this,” he gestured at their arrangement. This.

“Ah…” Kuroo sounded like somebody just explained an unfunny joke to him. “Pheromones, yeah?”

Kenma nodded. 

It was true. This was just pheromones. From the contract, to the heat, leading up to their casual contact; the way they fit together, unbonded pieces of a pair: just pheromones.

He liked that excuse. It was simple, it was logical, and it was _convenient. <\em>_

This. “Just pheromones,” he repeated, welcoming the warmth of convenience between them.

\---

They finished the videos near dinnertime. It was surprisingly fun to watch now that he knew what was happening. Kuroo was an amazing player, an all-rounder who could pretty much block, serve, receive, and spike. In comparison to the other members though, he wasn't astounding. His spikes couldn't possibly match up to Bokuto's, nor his serves to Oikawa, but he filled in any gap, and was formidable enough compared to normal players. Plus, he was consistent unlike Bokuto who threw fits (according to Kuroo himself). 

Now, that formidable guy was nodding off on top of him. 

“Kuro,” Kenma shook his leg. “Get up.”

Kuroo blinked awake and yawned, stretching his arms. “Hmm? What time is it?” 

“Ah? I better start cooking dinner then.” 

He nodded and finally, they separated. It was a little less warm without him. He disappeared into the kitchen, and Kenma pulled out his phone. 

He didn't realize Akaashi had texted. Was he that invested in the videos? 

Kozume: _Hey_

Akaashi: _Hello._

Kozume: _How was it_

Akaashi: _A nightmare. Bokuto wouldn't stop vibrating in his seat every time I was close. I had to keep a poker face all day or else._

Kozume: _Did you think about it_

Akaasho: _Yes. I'm going to tell him in the next few days._

Kozume: _Is he handling the wait_

Akaashi: _Barely._

Kenma snickered. 

Kozume: _What are you telling him though_

Akaashi: _That I accept, but we should start slow, and be discreet about it._

Kozume: _He’s not going to like that huh_

Akaashi: [sent a sticker]

It was a cute red owl laughing. Kenma chuckled himself, a soft ‘fufu’ noise. 

Akaashi: _That aside, how are you?_

Kenma hesitated before answering. Akaashi deserved the truth.

Kozume: _I had my heat last night_  
_When he got home_  
_He was kind of drunk I think_  
Akaashi: _Kenma._

Kozume: _He just sniffed me a little_  
_Then he carried me to my room and gave me meds_  
_That’s it nothing happened_

Akaashi: _Kenma, Kuroo is Bokuto’s close friend, but I won’t hesitate. Be honest with me._

Kozume: _I am_  
_That really was all that happened_  
_He was affected for a bit then he went out for 10 mins and he was back to normal somehow to get me meds_  
_Do you know anything about that_

Akaashi’s speech bubble typed for a while.

Akaashi: _I don’t know anything I can tell you. I’m sorry._

Kozume: _Akaashi_  
_What can you tell me_

Akaashi: _Nothing specific._

Kenma: _Anything at all_

Akaashi: _Nothing that would satisfy you, Kenma. It’s a really sensitive issue._

Kenma: _At least why he can’t legally tell me_

The speech bubble was typing. 

Akaashi: _Okay._  
_It’s got something to do with his work. That’s all I'll be saying on the matter._

Kenma sighed hard. He wanted more, though definitely not at the expense of Akaashi’s job. Begrudgingly he let the topic go. He could deduce it for himself, anyway. 

Kozume: _Ok thanks_

Akaashi: _You’re welcome. And if there’s anything at all, you can tell me._

Kozume: _Yeah dont worry_

They ended it when Akaashi said he had to get back to work. Now he was left alone with his thoughts. Whatever was causing Kuroo’s pheromones to be all weird like that, it had something to do with Kuroo’s job: a pharmaceutical biochemist. 

Was he a research subject? Some sort of new human who could control their pheromones at will? He’d be incredibly jealous if that were the case. But then Kuroo would be at the lab, and wouldn’t have the luxury of lounging around at home. The lab even sent him home, so he crossed that possibility out. In all likeliness, it was probably some sort of suppressant. Pills? He did ask for 10 minutes, and Advils could work in that time. Pills or tablets. 

An alpha suppressant. 

It begged the question why an alpha would do that. Why would he develop something that inhibits what makes them so powerful? Their pheromones were what ruled the world and kept them on top. Pheromones were domination, and subjugation; two sides of a very shitty coin.

This and other such similar thoughts raced through his head. Usually it frustrated Kenma; his helpless attention to all the little details made him a nervous wreck and prone to overthinking everything. But it also had its perks. Gathering information. Analyzing it. Figuring out what makes something tick, and how it should be dealt with. Now it felt like some sort of game and the objective was to pry information out of the alpha named Kuroo Tetsurou, and his mysterious pheromone phenomenon. 

There was sizzling from the kitchen, smells of something savory frying. Kenma followed, taking a seat by the dinner table. Kuroo was busy seasoning something in a pan. Fish, from the smell of it.

“Oya, hungry?” He asked. 

Kenma nodded slowly. 

Not for food. 

He watched intently as Kuroo worked, right until he was finished preparing their dinner: a simple meal of rice, fried fish, some sauteed vegetables, and soup. 

Kuroo was an adult alpha male at peak health, with a stable and well-paying job, had people he could call friends, and some of the strongest pheromones Kenma had ever been exposed to. Why would he facilitate research against alphas? Wouldn’t that make things more difficult for himself? 

Kuroo interrupted his thoughts. “...You’re staring a lot, recently. Falling in love with me yet?” He snickered. 

Kenma immediately looked away. “I’m not. I’m not staring.”

“You are,”

“I’m not,”

“You are,” 

A pause. 

“I’m not.” 

Kuroo rolled his eyes, shrugging with a mischievous face. “Sure you aren’t~” 

Kenma glowered at him and ate his meal in silence. He was too intrigued by this Kuroo-mystery to be bothered by Kuroo himself. He wanted to get down to the very bottom of it, like a visual novel with a compelling mystery. That would mean doubling down on his observations. It would take some effort, sure, but it’s not like he’d get tired. Not physically, at least. 

Well then, if that was the case, he’d be willing to put up with it. Besides, it would be good to see Kuroo’s face once he had it all figured out. Maybe it was just pettiness on his part, but he wanted to be one to smirk. 

So began Kenma and his close observations. 

\---

Throughout his time, he did nothing but be slightly more attentive towards what Kuroo was doing. Of course, he couldn’t just start gawking at him from the get-go, or else it would be too suspicious. Most of his observing was done through the smallest glimpses; half-lidded faux-disinterest, careful dissection of words and intent, closely reading body language, and allowing himself to lean, close the distance between their bodies. Even the way they initiated their proxy wasn’t allowed to be just that. Kenma was sure it meant more, and the possibilities of its meaning somehow contributed towards the mystery of ‘why.’

 _‘Pheromones,’_ he reminded himself. The way they were sharing each other was just a mutually beneficial relationship, like a bee to a flower, nothing more and nothing less. The fact he felt all soft and warm when they were touching was the largest piece of evidence that this was, a pheromone thing. Under no circumstances could he ever justify organically feeling like this. Suddenly, things like alpha-omega couples nesting early into a relationship and being all touchy made sense. They were craving the safety of each other that their compatible biology could offer them. 

Though, that was about all he could say on the matter: it’s just biology. Biology came easily, but feelings, though? Kenma doubted those things could happen in the blink of an eye, or a whiff of a scent. He felt oddly smug knowing that, and somehow made him immune, just because. The confidence was reinforced by the fact ‘his’ alpha was a biochemist. Surely Kuroo of all people knew it was just biology. Hell, if he asked, he’d probably have an explanation for it. He was pretty tempted to ask, actually. At the very least, coming from a directly knowledgeable person, the information wouldn’t be skewed against omegas. He was pretty sick of how they were endlessly taught in class that being hitched was the key to life. That if they found their bonds, the whole world would suddenly make sense and take away their suffering. 

_‘At least tell me what nerves are involved,’_ Kenma thought. _'And if I can get it removed,'_

Kuroo turned off the TV and tapped Kenma on the shoulder. 

“Hey,” he said. 

“Mmmm,” Kenma replied.

“I’m bored. Wanna play a game?” 

Kenma looked up at him. “...Which one?” Well this was a new development. Kuroo didn’t usually play video games. He was curious to see which he’d choose. 

“Let’s play Mario Kart,” he said, tapping the side of Kenma’s Switch. 

Kenma saved his game. “You’re on,” he said. He unclipped one of the joy-cons and handed it to the alpha. It was almost comically small in Kuroo’s hands that Kenma bit on his lips to suppress his laugh. The alpha had to lean over, placing his chin on Kenma’s shoulder, his arms encircling the omega by the waist, and Kenma (too easily) found himself inclined against his chest. Kenma held his controller up to his chest, while Kuroo’s was settled against his stomach. 

With the Switch docked to the TV, Kenma began the race.

Kenma chose Waluigi as his driver. He liked the humor in defeating people in races using this obnoxiously purple guy at first, but then Waluigi became his unironic favorite. Kuroo was switching between Shy Guy, Rosalina, and Wario. He hummed in concentration, and Kenma could feel it against his cheek. 

“Kenma, you choose for me.” He said. “Pick a number between 1, 2, and 3.”

“2,” he said. It was Wario. 

“Ohoo, matchies~” Kuroo took pleasure in this somehow. 

They started racing. Kenma, being the more experienced player, defeated Kuroo each time. He could feel Kuroo getting frustrated because he was pressing harder on the joy-cons and grunting whenever he crashed, got hit by a projectile, or drove into a banana. Of course, Kenma wasn’t helping him. In fact, he was responsible for over half Kuroo’s frustration. 

“Kuro, you’re bad at this game.” Kenma snorted, after they finished the Star Cup a second time. 

The alpha grumbled. “Hey, it’s been a while since I played!”

“It's not a fair fight. I could give you some tips,” Kenma offered. It wasn’t completely out of generosity, no. Besides, it would be fun if Kuroo was better; he was getting bored of winning easily each time, and seeing how the alpha would look when he wins would be fun. 

“Oya? Is the master gamer going give tips now? Me, a humble noob?” The alpha was grinning, and Kenma could feel it against his cheeks. He felt like he was in a full-body hug.

“Shut up before I change my mind.” 

“I shall humbly accept, then~” 

Kenma felt himself getting squeezed just a bit as Kuroo get ready. They practiced on the easiest course, not exactly minding if they won or not. The objective was to teach Kuroo how to drift, the timing of projectiles, and other tricks Kenma had picked up during his time playing. Kuroo was an quick learner, asking questions in an almost scientific manner, like how the vehicle weights affected the drifts, or how fast projectiles went over the track. It was alright, until he started asking for equations and formulas. Kenma liked games, but not enough to get involved with math.

Kenma pushed back against him. “It’s just a game, so I don’t know about those things, Kuro.”

“Mmn.” Kuroo grunted. “I think I’m ready to play now,” he said. 

“‘Kay,” Kenma started them on the Star Cup again. It was a much more challenging experience this time, Kuroo could actually keep up with him, never more than a couple of paces behind. Sometimes he’d crash against Waluigi, knocking him off course or manage to shoot a shell. Kenma felt excitement trying to shake him off and pull off drifts at opportune twists in the track to get boosts of speed which left Kuroo behind. 

The first three rounds, Kuroo lost. Each time however, he closed the gap between them. From 7fth place to 4th, to 3rd, and at their last round, he placed 2nd-- with Kenma just barely overtaking him. 

“One more,” Kuroo said. “Last.” Against his ear, his voice was a whisper. Kenma shivered. 

“O...Okay,” he mumbled. 

After a harrowingly close race on the Rainbow Road, Kenma somehow found himself pleased to have lost. Kuroo came at him at the last second with a perfectly-aimed red shell just seconds away from the finish line, overtook him, and won. 

_‘That was fun,_ he thought to himself. 

Suddenly, he was being hugged. Not the usual, casual hug-like position they had, but a real hug. Kuroo was squeezing him from behind, his face buried in Kenma’s neck. 

“K-Kuro…?” He found himself tensing up. 

Kuroo started laughing, puffs of breath brushing against Kenma’s neck. That laugh was ugly, and annoying, and it sounded like ‘mugyuhuhuhu~’, and Kenma didn’t mind it one bit. It had that ugly-cute appeal to it.

Wait, did he just call that ugly laugh…. _cute?_

Kenma tapped the sides of Kuroo’s legs. “Why... are you laughing?” 

Finally, the alpha raised his head. He had a silly smile on his face. “Because I won! Yay~” It was childish, it was charming, and so disarming, Kenma couldn’t look away.

He swallowed. “W-why does a win excite you so much?”

Kuroo looked at him for a second. “Because I won against _you._ That was fun, wasn’t it?” Kuroo nudged him for an answer. 

He nodded. It was, because it was challenging and Kuroo deserved it. “You learn fast,”

The alpha smiled. “That’s because you’re a good teacher, Kenma~ Wanna play something else, now?”

“There’s not much games on the Switch for two players, though,” he said. He watched Kuroo think for a second.

“Nah, I don’t need to play. I wanna _watch_ you play.” 

Kenma blinked. “Eh? But… Why?” 

“Just because,” he replied. “I like seeing you play.”

Again, Kenma had been disarmed, robbed of something to say against that. It was kind of embarrassing to hear, and his ears felt hot. “Mmmm,” he hummed. “I’ve pretty much finished the games on here, though. It wouldn’t be interesting if I’m just running around.” 

“Why not just buy a new one, then?” Kuroo suggested.

Kenma looked at him like he said something dumb. “I can’t just--”

“Sure you can!” Kuroo cut in, pressing the home button and opened the online store. “It’s linked to my card, so you can just buy whatever. Oh, here,” he pointed at a game. “Looks pretty interesting, huh? I heard it’s hard and scary as hell. _And_ it’s got a word I like on the title,” 

_Resident Evil 7: Biohazard._

Of course. “Gas mask,” Kenma mumbled.

Kuroo frowned. “...You’re still not over that?” 

“Just kidding.” He smiled, feeling some satisfaction over Kuroo’s guilt. 

“I’ll buy it to make it up to you, just to be safe.” 

He certainly wasn’t going to say no to a free video game. And according to various video reviews, Biohazard was a tremendously horrifying game. “Mmmkay,” he said. “Thanks.”

Kuroo made his purchase, and Kenma got to play the game. 

It was easily one of the best experiences. The wide, flatscreen TV really made a difference in the graphics. His eyes were glued to the game, already concentrating on figuring out the controls and character movement. Just as the reviews said, the atmosphere was great and believable, and he was already getting fond of the main enemy, the Baker family. They were gruesome and disgusting people, which made Kenma deeply curious about them all the more. 

“Man, this game,” Kuroo grimaced. “Gross! The bugs crawling around--!”

“It’s just a game, Kuro…” 

“Yeah, but _ew,_ you know? Man, the graphics…” 

“Really good.”

“Too good.” They both agreed. “Don’t you feel grossed out?” 

“Mmm, sometimes. But I’m more focused on the game itself.” Then, he paused it for a bit. “Aren’t you getting tired of watching?” 

“Nah, I’m pretty invested. ‘Sides, just think of it as payback. You endured all those volleyball videos while I geeked out,” he said. “Plus, I get a kick out of you messing up the stealth bits~” 

“You’re an asshole,” Kenma said, fighting back a smile. “But you don’t have to pay me back. It was fun watching, and you’re a pretty good player,” he admitted. 

"I'm glad you liked it~" Then, Kuroo looked a bit sad. “I _was_ a pretty good player~” 

And Kenma wondered why he said it like that. Like he was full of regret because he _was_ a good player. Why didn’t he just keep playing, then? Even if he had a job, surely he could get together some people like Bokuto, Oikawa, and Sawamura and maybe call in others for a match.

“Mmm,” he tried not to sound displeased. “Did you get busy with work?”

“Something like that,” Kuroo told him. The alpha ruffled his head. “Don’t worry about that sort of thing, just keep playing.” 

_‘Don’t dodge the topic,_ Kenma thought, a bit annoyed. But he couldn’t let Kuroo on to the fact he picked up that he was probably taking alpha-suppressants of some sort. Instead, he turned his focus back on the game as requested. 

Eventually, they got to the mold-creatures. They were troublesome, soaking up Kenma’s bullets and dealing Ethan, the protagonist, good damage with each hit. Frustrated because he couldn’t get past a corridor without getting beaten, Kenma paused, resting against Kuroo. 

It was a good place to be. 

He found himself speaking. “Hey Kuro, If… there was a zombie outbreak, what would be the cause?” 

“Hm, good question,” Kuroo said, rubbing his chin. “The game got something right. I'm positive it would be a biohazard, not a chemical hazard. By that, I mean if some company hypothetically created a zombie-fying serum, it’ll likely be derived from biological components.”

He was intrigued. “Explain.”

“Well, biopharmaceuticals isn’t my expertise. I’m in a more chemicals-related field. My team and I basically synthesize medicine from chemicals, and we do research on how those chemicals affect the body. Biopharma on the other hand, derives their results from naturally-occuring elements. Think snake venom as medicine, yeah? So coming back to my original point, a zombie drug would be a biopharma thing, because something as complex as the human brain-- presumably what the drug affects --would require something just as complex to attack it. Maybe cordycep mushrooms? Those are pretty close already.”

Kenma put the controller down. “Then, what would you be doing?” 

“If I haven’t been turned yet, I’ll probably help making vaccines or a retardant for the serum. I think the latter would come first. Drug development takes _ages,_ man. Even something like 3 years would be godly.”

The omega hummed again. “How long does it usually take?”

“About 12 years. On average.” 

Kenma blinked at him. It took 12 years to develop stuff like Advil? 

Kuroo pinched his cheeks. “Hehe~ You look like ‘what the fuck’ again!”

Kenma brushed his hand away, narrowing his eyes. “And you look like a mess.” 

“What else is new? Come on Kenma, you can do better than that~” The alpha nudged him again. “Use your big gamer brain and dish out some sick burns!”

“Big gamer brain…? You’re so cringey, Kuro. Sick burns, who uses those words together these days?” he muttered. 

“Huh? Nobody says that anymore? I must be getting old…” Kuroo rubbed his chin sagely.

“We’re only a year apart,” Kenma reminded him. He remembered what Kuroo said when he was drunk. A month and a day, and now a year apart. One plus one, plus one. 

Kuroo grinned. “I might be feeling old because you take years off my life,”

Kenma kept up. “I’m holding them hostage.”

“Ahh? I must be experiencing Stockholm Syndrome then.” Kuroo blinked after a second, realizing what he insinuated. 

That he somehow managed to like this? 

Kenma’s face turned hot, quickly. He lowered his head so Kuroo wouldn’t see. “...You have issues.” He mumbled. Suddenly, he felt all too aware of how he had spent the whole day sitting between Kuroo’s legs, and how they had been touching, talking, competing, and enjoying each other’s company. 

Even Kuroo took his time to answer. “Like any normal person. But honestly speaking… I don’t have issues with you. Or this.” He stopped for a bit. “Do you?” 

He had to take his time and think about it. Kuroo was annoying sometimes, but never grating. He was fairly considerate, though he knew how to rile somebody up. He’s smart, a biochemist, but also dumb with him and his stupid jokes. No, he didn’t hate it. And yes, maybe he’s come to terms that he liked… some parts of it.

Kenma shook his head. 

Kuroo breathed a sigh of relief. “Jesus! Sure took your time huh? I thought you hated me for a second there,” 

“I don’t,” Kenma couldn’t. Kuroo proved it again and again just how difficult he was to hate. Sure he was provocative (in more ways than one) and could be petty, but underneath that was just a genuinely nice guy who made allowances for anyone. Even a person as shy and anti-social as Kenma. With Kuroo, it was easy to forget there was the invisible line of alpha and omega.

Kuroo smiled brightly. “Yay~” 

“What are you celebrating for?” 

Kuroo hugged him, leaning his forehead on Kenma’s shoulder. “It just means I’m not a terrible person~”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was really fun to write omg finally my boy Kenma admits things!! He's always so in denial about everything 😭
> 
> I'm thinking of ramping up the speed of development between their relationship, do you guys agree? I'm pretty sure we're all suffering this slow-burn but if you guys give me the go signal, I'm willing to do it :D
> 
> With that being said, thanks for all the support! We're nearing 300 kudos?? As a first-time poster, this is so wild to me omg 
> 
> If you want updates/kuroken content, follow me on Twitter I want more kuroken mutuals!! This is where I usually post my progress on the fic, whether I'm editing or when I'll be posting the next chapter. Just tell me if you're from AO3 and feel free to DM!


	15. "Boyfriends"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma and Kuroo go outside for once. The day's agenda includes: anxiety, annoying Kenma, games, and ramen.

“Kenma.”

Kenma ignored him. He was busy on a new game: Hollow Knight. It was a deceptively challenging game with cute 2D graphics, mysterious and cryptic lore, and a very tight combat system. 

“Kenmaaaa…” 

He felt a chin grinding on the top of his head. He grunted, but ignored Kuroo again. His avatar, the Knight, easily dashed and slashed through the area, leaving nothing but the corpses of cute infected bugs in its wake. He particularly liked the small detail where their bodies would get all curled or compressed, just like bugs in real life. 

“Kenma. Kenma. Kenmaaaaaaa. Ko-zu-me Ken-maaa!” Each syllable was given deliberate stress to it, for added annoying qualities. 

The omega paused the game, holding a deep, frustrated sigh in. “What.”

“I’m bored. Let’s go out.” 

Kenma exhaled, long, frustrated, as if to say ‘I don’t want to go outside, why would you even suggest that.’ He pushed back against the alpha’s chest. “Are you a dog?” 

Kuroo hugged his midsection, pulling him up a little. “Come oooon, you’ve been playing games all day.” 

“I thought you liked it when I played...” He grumbled. 

“Yeah, but your game is about bugs. I can’t look at it.” 

“They’re just 2D bugs. It’s good character design. They’re cute. ” 

“Big fat lies. They’re gross. And I hate the noises they make! Plus, when you kill them, their corpses just… wriggle.” 

Kenma actually felt him shiver from that. He let a puff of laughter out. “Kuro, you’re overreacting. Just close your eyes if you hate it so much.”

The alpha groaned. “Can we please just go out?” He rocked from side to side, ensuring Kenma wouldn’t be able to play properly. 

Kenma wanted to elbow him to stop. No doubt they’d try to start hitting each other like last time, and the last time it was tiring, so he turned the Switch off and looked up at him. “Ugh, what else do you want?” 

“Us. Go. Outside,”

“No. Not that.” 

“At least think about it!” 

“Already did. I don’t want to,” 

“Yes you do. Even plants need a little bit of sun, y’know?” Kuroo grinned. “How’re your cacti?” 

He blinked. He knew he left them on the windowsill of his room, but he forgot it he actually watered them recently. “...Maybe they’re dead now. I should go check,” so Kenma got up from Kuroo and began heading upstairs. 

“Might as well get dressed while you’re up there~” He stood up as well, and they went upstairs together. 

Kenma entered his room and checked on the cacti. They were doing better than he expected, needing only a quick dip of water. Once he was finished, he sat on his bed and thought if he should get dressed or lock himself in. Maybe Kuroo had a point, and he should go outside? The last time they went out together was the grocery, and that didn’t go well. It worried him that something might happen, and Kuroo would have to do something about it. 

Knocking came from the door. 

_“You'd better be getting dressed!”_

Kenma held his tongue. Maybe if he stayed quiet--

_“I know you’re in there, Kenma. Staying quiet won’t save you! We’re leaving in twenty minutes!”_ Kuroo gave one loud knock on the door, jostling him. 

Grumbling to himself, Kenma got dressed. He hated Kuroo’s smirk once he got outside. The alpha looked sharp, dressed in a sweater and a pair of slacks with a coat over it all. Compared to him, Kenma just threw a jacket over his shirt, put on some jeans, and called it a day. 

“Shut up.” He said, before Kuroo said anything. Kuroo snorted, reaching over and rubbing his head. Kuroo led him to the car, and he got strapped in front. 

He wondered where they were going as Kuroo pulled out of the driveway. Were they going to another cafe? He didn’t think so, because they just had lunch earlier. Other than Bokuto and Oikawa, the alpha didn’t usually have a reason to go outside. Work was out of the equation. 

“So I was thinking, since you hate going outside,” Kuroo started, “but _I_ want to go outside, how about we do one thing I like, and then we do one thing you like today? Sounds good?” 

Huh. He was sort of just expecting to get dragged to someplace and have to sit it out. That's usually what his phone was for. “...Okay,” he said. “What are we doing for you?” 

Kuroo grinned evilly. Kenma did not like that.  
\---  
He very much regret wearing the clothes he had on now. 

Kuroo took him to a shopping mall somewhere around B-5. 

He very, _very_ much regret wearing the clothes he had on now. Surrounding him were high-end brands and bright displays of clothing with price ranges that stopped his heart. He found himself creeping closer to Kuroo, needing nothing more for _anything_ to cover himself up at that moment. 

Kuroo put his arm around him. “Hey, you okay?” If he looked concerned or condescending, Kenma didn’t know because he was trying to bury himself in the alpha’s sweater. 

Kenma shook his head. Of all things, ‘okay’ was definitely not it. He felt so out of place like a streak of dirt on an otherwise spotless floor. The thing about dirty spots just so happened to be that people paid close attention to it, and likely desired to have it removed at once. He was shaking all over, and starting to break out in a cold sweat, and perhaps Kuroo thought it was pathetic of him to be cowering like this; helplessly gripping his coat like he was going to fall off the earth at any moment. Kenma’s breathing was shaky, and he found it difficult to form words to explain himself and apologize for acting like this. He felt the guilt increase as Kuroo kept walking, keeping him close. They walked for a while until he heard Kuroo pushing something that sounded like curtains aside. The alpha sat down, coaxing Kenma to sit on his lap as he did so. The omega kept his face in the crook of Kuroo’s neck. A hand began stroking gently down his head, then another rubbing slow circles on his back. 

“Breathe, Kenma,” he whispered.

_Kenma,_ the sound of his own name being uttered pulled him from his thoughts. He did so, recalling Akaashi’s advice. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Inhale…

Hold.

Kenma gasped, pulling away from Kuroo’s neck. He looked around frantically, seeing white walls, beige curtains, Kuroo, then himself, reflected in a mirror. 

Kuroo caught him before he threw himself off his lap. 

“Woah, hey--! Settle down, Kenma,” he hissed, like they were supposed to be quiet. 

Kenma’s heart was palpitating. His face was incredibly hot, a brilliant shade of red as reflected in the mirror. He was still sitting on Kuroo’s lap. “W-where…? Where are we?”

“Changing room. I thought you were acting funny. Are you okay?” He really did look concerned. Even if he caused this.

Kenma was struck by a wave of shame. He was so pathetic! “I-I’m fine now,” he murmured, lowering his head and using the sides of his hair to shield his face. 

“What’s the problem?” Kuroo loosened his grip, allowing Kenma to lean on him on his own volition. 

He needed it. He allowed himself to need it. Kuroo (his pheromones) was calming. Kind. Unreasonably almost, because Kenma thought that his panic attacks were a pain to deal with, and yet here Kuroo was, dealing with it. 

The alpha urged him again, lowering his voice. “Will you tell me?” 

He nodded slowly. “...I h-have anxiety,” he mumbled. Almost immediately he felt guilty for admitting it, because it would be another problem Kuroo would inevitable have to handle, like his heats. At least heats were predictable.

“Oh,” he said, even softer. “Thanks for telling me.” 

“Sorry I was--” 

Kuroo put a finger to his lips. “It’s alright, I got it. What caused it? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.” 

Slowly, Kenma was being eased out of his shell through Kuroo’s gentleness. He talked about it, how in places like these he felt like he truly didn’t belong, and that everyone somehow knew who he was and was judging him for it; that everywhere he felt as if every one of his moves were being watched. He said it was stupid (Kuroo disagreed) and it was irrational (Kuroo shook his head) and it was his fault because he couldn’t get himself to think more rationally. 

“It isn’t,” the alpha disagreed again. “You can’t help it. I don’t know the specifics of your condition, but can I say something?” 

He nodded. 

“This isn’t my field, so I’ll be speaking broadly. Part of anxiety is chemical imbalances in the brain, specifically the ‘neurotransmitters’. That’s stuff like serotonin, which is your primary mood regulator, and norepinephrine, your stress hormone. Now I’m not saying it’s the only reason, there’s plenty other causes, but in general, those neurotransmitter imbalances are involved when people have anxiety. There’s no helping it sometimes. The bottom line is, it really is all in your head.” 

Kenma frowned. “I knew that.” 

“Yes but,” he raised his index finger to make a point, “we can therefore assume, everything you think people think about you isn’t real. Do you pay attention to every single stranger you see?” 

He shook his head. 

“Same goes for everyone else, then. Nobody’s paying that much attention. You look fine.”

“I don’t,” Kenma said, disbelieving. “Not when I’m standing next to you. We’re mismatched.” He meant more than just the clothes they wore. 

“Issat so?” Kuroo rubbed his chin. He snapped his fingers. “Then, let’s make us match~” 

Kenma looked at him weird. “Huh?” 

“You heard me.” Kuroo grinned. He ruffled the omega’s hair, placing him on the bench, then left the changing room. After three seconds, he came back to throw his coat at Kenma. “Just in case,” he said. 

The blonde stared at the curtain, dumbfounded. For five whole minutes he held the coat; it felt like a really warm blanket and it smelled faintly of the alpha. Kenma waited five whole seconds before taking a sniff or two. Or three. Not even a few minutes passed until he fully held the coat in his arms, the collar up to his nose. While doing so, he felt something in one of the pockets. Curious, he rummaged around until he pulled out Kuroo’s glasses. He thought, the fact Kuroo brought along plain reading glasses (or were they cosmetic?) a curious thing. Just how much did he need his glasses for him to be bringing it around everywhere? 

He held it up to his face, looking through the lens. They didn't seem so bad like this, but it definitely was a bit stronger than what he'd consider reading glasses. Kenma blinked. 

_‘That idiot drove us here without his glasses on?! We could have died.’_

He imagined him and a squinting Kuroo swerving off the side of the road, shooting over a cliff, and crash-landing into the ocean. 

He had to put on the glasses to find out if it were a future possibility. 

After slipping them on, he blinked a couple of times to adjust. There was a mild ache as his eyes which caused him to grimace. Though he could still see himself relatively clearly in the mirror, alongside the shocked expression of Kuroo in the back. 

Kenma whipped his head around and swiped the glasses off, his face immediately burning. “This isn’t--”

Kuroo’s expression was shifting. Kenma didn’t like it. It was as smug a smooth swindler’s smile. “Oh my god, were you…?”

“I wasn’t!”

“You were!” 

“Were not!”

“Were too!” 

“Were not!” 

The alpha snickered, stepping inside the stall while carrying a basket of clothes. Kenma backed up, his back hitting the mirror. He shifted his eyes away from Kuroo, who leaned over to pluck the glasses delicately from his trembling fingers. 

“You like my glasses~?” He asked, tilting his head. Smoothly, he flicked the pair open and slid them on his face. “How’d you take it?” Trademark grin. 

Kenma felt choked. No answer would come out, not with Kuroo’s face so close and so… bespectacled. His heart was racing, and all he had to blame for it were goddamn pheromones. Seeing as the alpha was still waiting for an answer, he took tried to say something. Nothing came out. 

“Oya, don’t have anything to say? Is Kenma speechless~?”

“S-shut up, Kuro…” 

Kuroo leaned in closer, just to savor the look on Kenma’s face. “C’mon, say something~” 

He could feel their breaths mingling with one another. The alpha was only inches away from him, smelling of chocolate, and though Kenma was looking away, he could feel Kuroo’s gaze searching his face. For a reaction? He didn’t know. He didn’t want to feel like this, the center of Kuroo’s complete attention. It’s like his body was turning into mush. 

Kenma brought both his hands up and pushed the alpha away, his fingers making contact with the glasses. 

Kuroo whipped his head back, cursing as he pulled off the glasses. “My lens! Why, you...!” He tensed as if about to retaliate, but instead dropped the basket down on the floor with a loud thud. 

He froze. Was Kuroo actually mad?

The alpha pointed down at it, looking quite stern, even with the smudged glasses. “Listen up, you little _menace,_ you will wear these clothes,”

Obediently, he nodded. 

“And you _will_ obey my instructions. ‘Kay?” He shifted into a benevolent smile. 

Kenma knew otherwise. 

\---

“Kuro, we’ve been here for over _thirty minutes...”_ He groaned. 

“Turn around,” Kuroo commanded. 

Kenma groaned and turned around. His eye twitched as Kuroo hummed in appraisal. “I feel like a rotisserie chicken,” He said. 

“Yeah, you’re looking pretty good right now.”

He was _not_ in the mood for it. “When will we be finished? This is torture…” Honestly, Kuroo was like a mother!

“Fine, just give me a bit…” Kuroo stood up and and walked over to him. Then he knelt down and began rolling up the cuffs of Kenma’s new pants. His hair looked even messier from above, and Kenma recalled that time he whapped the alpha on the head. He wanted to do it now, just because he was forced to try out all these clothes. “There, now check yourself out. Looks good, right?” 

Once more Kenma turned around. Kuroo was right, it did look good. He never considered the possibility of clothes to make him look okay to human eyes. Most of his clothes were usually loose; meant to be form-concealing, and in thick layers to keep his scent in. This wasn’t all that different, which is why it was all the more startling how it coordinated. To think a plain-colored sweater half-tucked into some pants could do so much! 

“S’fine,” He mumbled, not quite believing the mirror yet. Kuroo was smiling. 

“‘Kay, we’re done here~” He bent to pick up the other piles of clothing he had accumulated while finding things for Kenma to wear. It wasn’t the only outfit he was given, but it seemed to be the one Kuroo was the most satisfied with. “Ah. Excuse me!” He called out to a clerk, pointing to the glasses on his face then made circles with his thumb and index fingers. The clerk nodded and went off to fetch something. 

“What was that…?” Kenma asked, giving him a weird look. 

“Just a little something to finish the look~” 

“I didn’t take you for a fashion guy,” he mumbled, focusing his gaze particularly at Kuroo's hair. It really did surprise him.

“...Is this an attack on my hair again?” 

“Yeah,” Kenma admitted easily.

“Hmph, I’m no fashionista, but since I hang out with Oika’a who’s a model, I’ve picked up on what’s good and what isn’t because that guy can’t dress to save his life. I just know to keep it simple~” 

Kenma snorted, because a pretty-boy like Oikawa? Couldn’t dress himself? It was absurd. “Since he’s a model, who dresses him?”

“He’s a primadonna prick-cess with a full team backing him up. I’m talking fashion gurus, makeup artists, trainers, dietitians, the works. His fiancee’s his manager too.” 

“Doesn’t that get in the way…?” 

“Yeah, they’re either making out on set or duking it out at a parking lot,” he sighed, and he sounded so tired, “wonder why they haven’t killed each other, to be honest.” 

“Why do they always fight?” 

Kuroo snorted. “They’re an alpha-alpha couple. It happens. We’re naturally competitive and aggression is the way we were taught to deal with it. At least before Oika’a and Iwa finishes their arguments, they end up making out or sexing it up again, so they never actually resolve anything. Occasionally, it comes back to bite them in the ass, hehe,” 

Kenma stared at him. Kuroo… was not competitive nor aggressive. Not yet, at least. He noted he said ‘taught’ like it was education. It made sense because omegas like him were taught to obey authority. “That sounds exhausting,” he sighed. 

“Hell yeah it is,” Kuroo said without hesitation, “I’d rather everyone get along. But if there’s anything, I know for a fact they’d take a bullet for the other.”

“Probably because they believe they should be the one to kill each other.”

The alpha barked in laughter, startling the clerk who was approaching him. He apologized and took something from her. “Here it is~” He approached the omega and slid a pair of glasses on his face. His fingers brushed against Kenma’s cheek. “There’s no prescription, but we’re matching now~” 

“Mmmm.” Kenma was stiff while Kuroo ushered him off to the cashier, an arm around his shoulder. Walking around with the glasses felt so weird at first because of the border around his vision. People actually did this for fashion? Absurd, that's what it was. But it sure did look good. He acknowledged it did as they stopped at the cashier. Knowing he’d check the price, Kuroo told the clerk not to say it out loud, and he used his card to pay. They left the store hauling two large paper bags. 

Kenma hated how he managed to get away with it. There could be thousands in there, and he wouldn't know. How well should he treat these clothes? Did they need some special sort of detergent? It hurt his head just thinking about it. “Kuro, that just makes me feel more guilty…” he grumbled. And Kuroo didn’t even let him hold the bags! ‘No,’ he said earlier, when he held it up so Kenma couldn’t reach. 

“Yeah, but this is the thing I wanted to do! So this is on me,” he said, sticking out his tongue. 

He gave the raven-haired man an incredulous look. “...Shopping for my clothes?” 

“Nah, I just wanted to annoy you today.” 

The fact his face looked to sincere _did_ in fact annoy Kenma. He kicked the alpha’s legs, causing him to curse. “I hate you,” he fumed. 

“How could you say that, Kenma? I’m the nicest guy in the world! You cycle through like, five sets of clothes, don't even deny it!" Kuroo pointed at him. He couldn't deny it. "Plus, you look cuter now, doncha think~?” 

He flared up. “S-shut up!” 

“Oya oya~? Is our Kenma blushing?” Kuroo leaned down again to take savor the look on his face. He even pointed, that sick bastard. “You’re all red, that’s so cute!”

He was so defenseless against this! How could Kuroo tell him he was cute twice? His hands flew to his face to cover it up. Surely he was lying; this was just part of his agenda to annoy him today. 

“Aww~ He’s shy!” The alpha cooed, rubbing the omega's head. “What are you gonna do? You gonna smudge my glasses about it?” 

By reflex, his hand did shoot out to try and push Kuroo’s face away, but the alpha had the reflexes of a cat and easily tilted his head to dodge. Now he was looking even more smug, and Kenma hated him for it. 

“Saw that coming~” he grinned, “you’re sooo predictable, Kenma~”

Kenma ran out of things to say, relenting as he and Kuroo started walking. His cheeks burned and he kept it down, catching glimpses of himself reflected off glass windows. 

He did look…. Okay. Better than what he wore earlier. It didn’t feel foreign on him, either, not like those ridiculous ‘makeovers’ that happen all the time. Even the glasses (begrudgingly) were not uncomfortable. He saw the usefulness of it; he and Kuroo matched now. It meant nobody would stare at him as much, at least. That did bring some peace of mind to him. Even if he didn’t fit in internally, like Kuroo said, nobody was paying that much attention to the people around them. Whoever would pay attention to him would see he wasn’t such a dirt stain. 

They continued walking through the mall, pressed close to each other. Occasionally they’d enter a store, Kuroo would look around (sometimes he’d join in), maybe buy something, then go back to walking. An hour or two must have passed with them walking and he was getting pretty tired until he heard some familiar booping and beeping noises. 

Before them were neon displays, boxy machines with bright graphics, prizes dangling from hooks, and people clutching rolls of tickets. The arcade. 

Kenma stopped, and Kuroo stopped with him. 

“Hm?” Kuroo glanced at him. 

Kenma shook his head and tried walking, but Kuroo held on. “Let’s go,” he murmured.

“You want to go in, don’t you?”

He shook his head. 

“Kenma. You want to go in, don’t you?”

Slowly, and with full hesitation in his heart, he nodded. And Kuroo ruffled his head. 

“‘Kay, let’s go~” He turned and entered the arcade, bringing the omega along with him. 

“Wait Kuro, we don’t have to--” he said. 

“Oya? Didn’t I say we’ll do something you like today?”

He still wasn’t convinced. Maybe Kuroo was just forcing himself. “But…” 

Kuroo pat his back. “It’s fine, it’s fine! I got to annoy you, so you get to trash me in games! We can go play air hockey, or something! Whatever you want!” They neared the cash register. Kuroo bought a card, and loaded it up with points. Having the alpha by his side, Kenma didn’t have to present his ID. 

So he and Kuroo played games. At first, he had to coax him into choosing. Not because he was shy, but he had been restricted to the omega-only area the last time he went arcade-gaming. Having the rest of the area unlocked, he had more choices, which was overwhelming. Eventually, he managed to find ones he liked, and ones they could play together. The more the played, the more Kenma got into it. From air hockey, racing games, shooters, to claw machines, they hopped from one end of the arcade to another in a ticket-nabbing frenzy, pausing only to load up more credits on the card. He and Kuroo played co-op on House of the Dead 2 and Silent Hill, high-fiving when they finished a stage with high scores, then played against each other on Daytona, a racing game. Kenma was in his element, winning a majority of the tickets, filling the paper bags.

After finishing a round of DJ Max, (Kuroo was bad at it) his eyes drifted towards the row of fighter games. 

He wished. 

It’s not like he didn’t know how. In fact, he loved fighter games. The simplicity and technique required to master such simpleness was something he adored. But the nature of fighting games were, well-- fighting. The row was almost fully occupied by competing alphas with some betas sprinkled in between. Kenma could tell they were alphas because they were exuding an aura, and he wasn’t being affected because of Kuroo's, cancelling them out. 

“You want to play?” Kuroo slipped his arm around Kenma. 

“...I can’t. There’s alphas there,” he replied. 

Kuroo pointed at himself. “Yeah, and?” 

Kenma blinked. “Oh. Then, can we?” 

Kuroo led him to an empty bench in front of a Tekken console. The duo gained a couple odd looks at first, but they had their own games to play. Kuroo sat down first, and Kenma between his legs. Their usual. 

Kenma glanced around. “Isn’t this position a bit…” 

“Playing safe,” Kuroo told him. 

Kenma couldn’t argue with that. This way, everyone _knew._ And nobody would approach him. 

It wasn’t long before Kenma had an opponent. Kenma chose Lili. The logic behind that was exactly like how he chose Waluigi; he thought it would be funny to whoop ass with such a frilly and delicate-looking character, then genuinely came around to liking her. She was sassy, elegant, and her lolita-esque aesthetic rubbed off on him eventually. 

The enemy chose Hwoarang. Hwoarang had goggles and orange hair, and a kick-based offense, like Lili. 

He leaned over, concentrating. The controls weren’t too different compared to the PSP’s where he primarily played online. The analog stick and buttons were there, but he had to adjust. He lost the first round terribly. Kuroo put his chin on his head, as if to encourage him. His hands were looped around Kenma’s waist. He smelled like chocolate, and Kenma was feeling... invigorated somehow? Like that time he could concentrate on his game before.

When the second round came around, Kenma won with a fair amount of health wiped from him. It urged a third round to determine the winner, where Kenma prevailed. 

Hwoarang wanted a rematch. Kenma was all too happy to agree. Kuroo didn’t seem to mind either, whistling and humming when Kenma pulled off combos or managed to block them. It wasn’t long until a small crowd was forming around them, and Kenma didn’t mind as he was too engrossed decimating a new competitor, Yoshimitsu. He was a skeleton samurai who had a notable hara-kiri technique Kenma was always looking forward to encountering. 

“I bet he’s cheating,” someone said. 

“You can’t cheat an arcade game,” said another. 

“Maybe it’s the alpha playing?” 

In response, Kuroo raised his hands from Kenma’s waist, wiggling his fingers. “Nah,” he said, returning them after. 

Then he whispered, _“Play along,”_ before increasing the volume of his voice. “Wow Kenma, you’re amazing at this game, I’m so glad you’re my boyfriend~ You’re beating up everyone! Aren’t you getting bored of playing these losers over and over?” 

Murmurs of challenging Kenma rose as Kuroo riled up the crowd. The ring of people was increasing, and others were shifting over to the other side, presumably in line to fight him. 

“K-Kuro…!” Kenma ducked his head, trying to hide his presence. He barely avoided a hit from Yoshimitsu. 

“It’ll be fun!” He insisted. “You wanted a fight, right? My boyfriend~?” He grinned. 

Kenma flushed and landed the final hit on Yoshimitsu. Lili’s winning animation played. 

_“Sebastian, can’t you do better than this?”_

“Yeah, Yoshibatsu, can’t you do better than this?” Kuroo said out loud. 

Kenma had to admit he liked what Kuroo was doing. Well, he didn’t like that he provoked everyone and Kenma had to deal with it, but the fact it ensured a steady stream of competition countered it. Yoshimitsu was replaced by King, a muscle-bound luchador with an iconic jaguar mask. Kenma defeated him easily. Then came Mokujin, a living wooden fighting dummy. Kenma defeated that too. 

Then came Nina, the typical sexy female assassin. 

Xiaoyu, a cutesy girl with bouncing pigtails. 

Kuma, a literal bear. 

Kenma defeated all of them, with different rates of success. Sometimes the matches came extremely close, other times it was a cakewalk. What didn't change was his domination over anyone who challenged him. 

Eventually, nobody stepped up for the challenge and the crowd had thinned as well. Well, more of the fact Kenma was unwilling to wait more than 2 minutes for a match. He tapped Kuroo’s leg and they got up. What remained of the spectators parted to let them pass, and they went to cash their tickets in. They had amassed quite a bit, obtaining a stuffed plush Kuroo chose. 

Kenma chuckled. “It’s so ugly,” he said. "You have bad taste,"

“What? No it’s not,” Kuroo snorted. 

The doll was an all-black and vaguely cat-shaped… thing. It had two pointy ends on its head like ears, a single yellow eye, four stubs at the bottom in a half-assed attempt to make feet, and a tail just off to the side. It was ugly, but in a cute kind of way.  
“It actually kind of looks like you,” Kenma pointed at it.

Kuroo squinted at it. “...No. You asshole.” 

“Yes it does,” Kenma said, holding it up to him. “It’s got one eye,” 

“Shut it, Kenma. I have both my eyes, y’know? So it does _not._ ”

“Does too,”

“Does not,”

Kenma paused, letting Kuroo think he had won the argument. “Does too.” he chuckled again. 

As punishment, he had to hold the stuffed toy. He didn’t mind because Kuroo was slightly pink and refusing to make eye contact. Not only did he get to play games and compete with people, but he had the luxury of seeing Kuroo flustered. It wasn't his most favorite thing, but it was interesting to see.

Now the only thing he needed was a good meal. Then, it would be a substantially great day. 

“Hey, you hungry?” Kuroo asked, weirdly timely of him as usual. He still had traces of a blush around his face. 

He nodded. 

“Good. I know a place,” he said. 

\---

Kenma was reasonably surprised when Kuroo took him to a tucked-away place. He thought that with his clothes, he’d take them somewhere fancier. Not that he was upset; far from it. He liked and missed the coziness the little ramen store offered with its inviting red lanterns and savory smells. His stomach grumbled and Kuroo laughed. They took their seats side-by-side, Kenma next to the wall, and Kuroo to his left, separating him from the others customers, which was a gesture he observed the alpha did often. He was considerate like that, despite his exterior. Sometimes he thought the only reason Kuroo was trying to provoke others was to protect something. 

He didn’t need the protecting, but he was grateful for it. It felt nice to… be accommodated, and not have to adjust to others. Were all alpha-omega relationships like this? Even if it was fake? He doubted there was anyone else who formed a contract like what they had, and to have it work out so well. Better than anything he had ever expected. Pheromones sure were convenient, and Kuroo really was nice. 

Which is why Kenma felt so guilty. He was too nice for somebody like him, who just spent all day lounging around, not doing anything, not striving for anything, and not being anything but… a pheromone source? He at least knew Kuroo saw him as more than that. A companion, then? A roommate? A... A boyfriend?

Could he call them-- _this_ \--being boyfriends? 

Earlier, he didn’t question it at all. Maybe he didn’t have time to, when he was playing Tekken. Kuroo said it so casually; “play along” like it was just a game. Was he okay with participating? Legally, he should be. The contract said they were technically partners. Pretending, but still partners. Was that how it’s going to be from now on then, just pretending? Probably. 

Just because Kuroo pulled the ‘boyfriend’ card once doesn’t make it true. 

“Your ramen’s getting cold,” Kuroo tapped his shoulder. “Are you thinking too hard again?”

“What?” How could he tell?

“I noticed you crease your eyebrows,” he squeezed the air between his index fingers, “when you’re thinking real hard, or maybe not at all.” 

_He didn't know he even did that. ‘Stop paying attention to me,’_ he thought. _‘You shouldn’t even be looking at me._

“Am I right?” 

“...Yeah.” He admitted, shifting his gaze just off Kuroo’s face. 

The alpha hummed, turning back to his bowl of miso ramen. He slurped up a couple of noodles, and Kenma followed suit with his own bowl of tonkotsu. It was good, the broth was tasty and he liked the bamboo shoots. Ah, it had actually been a while since he had one of these. The last time he ate ramen, it came out of a pack. There was no beating the taste of genuine ramen. 

They continued eating, more focused on filling their stomachs than anything else, but as they grew full, they slowed down and had some conversations with each other. They talked mostly about the day at the mall. Kenma thanked Kuroo for calming his anxiety, as well as the clothes, even though there was still some guilt. He said it was no big deal as usual, and that he got to see Kenma ‘own the noobs’ (Kenma cringed and Kuroo laughed because he knew he would) at the arcade. 

“You were really good at the game. It’s like you were adjusting during the first match, but after that it just came to you naturally, huh?”

He still feels pretty embarrassed being praised for a skill by an actual person. “W-well, you didn’t have to watch…”

“Are you kidding me?I could hear people from the other side saying ‘oh shit, oh fuck’ and it was sooo satisfying~”

“You didn’t even play,” Kenma snorted.

Kuroo rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but it’s like… I won through osmosis, being associated with you.” 

Kenma snorted again because of how he phrased it. “You’re so dumb,” he said. Kuroo stuck his tongue out at him. He ordered a plate of gyoza which they proceeded to pick off, one by one. While eating, Kuroo spoke again. 

“Kenma?”

He stopped chewing for a second. “Mmm?” 

“Thanks for today,” he said. “And as for earlier…” 

There it was. He was anticipating the alpha was going to clarify their relationship; that they weren’t boyfriends, and this was just contractual. 

“...thanks for indulging me. I thought you’d freak out if I suddenly said you were my boyfriend.” 

Kenma’s chest tightened. 

_Indulge?_

He didn’t like the implications of that. Indulging meant Kuroo was taking liberties with their relationship, even if he wasn’t supposed to for some reason, but he chose to do it anyway; to call them boyfriends. He didn’t like that, because he was afraid that meant he could start indulging in it too. 

“...It’s okay,” he managed to say, at least. Hard to talk when your lungs felt like it had no air. 

“Be honest though, did you mind?”

He did. He minded so much. It was bothering him in a way that he had never been. He never entertained having a ‘boyfriend’, let alone a fake one. A really convincing fake one. 

“No, it was fine,” he lied. 

Kuroo sighed in relief. Then, he smiled. His honest, disarming smile that Kenma could never look away from. “Yay~” 

_‘Don’t celebrate like it’s a good thing.’_ He thought, because he might find the good in pretending, too. 

They finished their gyoza a bit later. Kenma was full, and so was Kuroo. He should be, because he ordered one of the large bowls and ate most of the gyoza. It surprised him just how much the guy could eat. After paying, they began heading out to the parking lot. Kenma shivered in the chilly evening wind. He kind of wished he had his jacket because the sweater wasn’t quite enough. As if on cue, Kuroo put his coat around Kenma’s shoulders. It was incredibly warm, and smelled incredibly of him. He nearly sighed out loud with relief. The omega shook his head. “No, I don’t need--” 

“Yes you do. You’re shivering. See, your nose is turning pink.” Kuroo poked his nose. 

And now his face didn’t feel so cold anymore. Kuroo was probably feigning ignorance or something, because he looked closer. 

“That cold? Your whole face is turning pink! Keep the coat,” he said, followed by a pat to Kenma’s head. He brought him close again, for additional warmth, “you really need it.”

“But what about you?” He asked. 

“Worried about me now? I’m so touched~” Kuroo touched his chest. “I’ll be fine, honest,” 

Kenma hummed, not quite believing him. He could clearly see Kuroo’s hand trembling on his chest. When the alpha lowered it, Kenma took it without thinking, confirming that it was in fact cold. “You’re not, see?” Then he realized what he had done. 

Kuroo turned a ruby red. “K-K-Kenma!?” His other hand shot up to his face, covering it up.

Kenma blinked. _‘Fuck, I wanted to see that!’_ Still holding Kuroo’s hand, he tried moving around the alpha, trying to see his blushing face at different angles. “A-are you blushing?” He didn’t know why he was doing it. Suddenly, seeing Kuroo’s face blushing was an urgent matter. 

“No, I’m _not.”_ Kuroo tilt his head back so he was facing up, his face now out of view. 

Disappointed and annoyed, Kenma tutted. He was still holding Kuroo’s hand. 

After a while, Kuroo lowered his face again. He looked annoyed too, but significantly less pink. “Oi,” he said, sounding serious. “You know you shouldn’t just hold people’s hand like that.” 

Kenma waited for him to take his hand back. To show him it was time to end the little boyfriend game Kuroo started and never ended. But he didn’t, and it stayed, warming up in Kenma's hand. He gave Kuroo a serious look. He wouldn’t let Kuroo pull that card on him. Not when he didn’t pull back his own hand, and not when it was possible for Kuroo Tetsurou to make a face like that. “I thought boyfriends did that sort of thing,” he said under his breath.

Kuroo’s eyes widened. He rubbed the back of his neck, turning pink again. “You... don’t have to keep indulging me, y’know?” 

“I’m just…” He thought about his words carefully. As he spoke, his face gradually heated up. “...Playing along, like you said. Y-you never said to stop.” Tough of him to play around like that earlier, when he can’t even admit things like this with a straight face, and while holding Kuroo’s hand. 

They both refused to look at each other. 

“Issat so…?” Kuroo mumbled, uncharacteristic of him. “‘Kay then, let’s go home… boyfriend.” He held Kenma’s hand in his own, gently, like he was holding a delicate pane of glass. As if to tell Kenma he can let go any time, and he can stay all the same. Their hands were warm, so warm, as they walked down the streets together. 

As they neared the car, Kuroo let his hand go and walked up to the passenger’s seat, opening the door for Kenma. He gestured at the door, with a goofy smile on his face. “After you, boyfriend~” 

It’s that look again. Weirdly comforting now, right after they were holding hands. It’s like nothing had changed between them. 

Except this time, his stomach was fluttering, and he couldn’t quite tell why. 

"God, you're embarrassing," Kenma said, laughing. "I hate it," 

"Well if you hate it so much, just close your eyes~" 

Kenma rolled his eyes but couldn't help the small smile forming on his face.

“Thanks,” he murmured, getting in. Kuroo shut the door. As he walked to the driver’s seat, he allowed himself one small indulgence; the liberty of adding “boyfriend” when Kuroo couldn’t hear him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally... They go outside... I hope you guys enjoyed that! It was really fun writing Kuroo being flustered for once?? Even if it was super brief :D (Trust me, there will be MORE flustered Kuroo in the future~) 
> 
> I read everyone's comments when I asked previously if the pace of their relationship was going too slow, and if I should increase the pace. Most of it seemed to say that the current pace is fine, so I'll be proceeding as usual! Thank you for the support :D You guys motivate me so much ;^;
> 
> Follow me on Twitter for updates! DM me if you're from AO3!


	16. Little Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three little visitors appear in this chapter, bringing with them all sorts of new things.

He and Kuroo had had settled into a routine. Majority of their days were spent on the couch, enacting their proxies, playing games, watching shows, or just hanging out. Every once in a while the alpha would have some business to attend to, and he’d go off on his own leaving Kenma to his own devices. This routine would be punctuated every two or three days by going out usually somewhere Kuroo wanted. 

That morning, they were on the couch as usual; laying on their side. Kuroo was behind him watching Dirk Gently, a mystery show one would describe as ‘continuity porn’ due to its supernatural and time-bending elements at Kenma’s recommendation. Having already finished the first season and wanting to watch the second with him, he was satisfied just listening, while texting Akaashi on his phone. They had been updating each other about their lives when Kenma brought up Akaashi’s promised confession. 

Kozume: _Have you told him yet_

Akaashi: _I’m trying to find the right time. We’re swamped with work right now._

Kenma narrowed his eyes. Akaashi made that excuse when he didn’t want to deal with it. He of all people knew Akaashi was a perfect worker who would never allow work to pile up, even if it meant overworking. Strange form of logic, but the point was Akaashi always did things on time. He just wasn’t doing this one thing. Normally Kenma would wait a bit more, but he knew Akaashi, and he knew if Akaashi held things in for too long, he risked having an outburst, or even a breakdown. 

He texted Kuroo. 

The alpha’s phone buzzed and he pulled it out. 

Kozume: _Is Bokuto busy at work_

“Oi Kenma, you know you can just open your mouth to talk, right?” 

Kozume: _Yeah_  
_Just answer the question_

He could imagine Kuroo was rolling his eyes now. He even grunted before speaking. “S‘far as I’m concerned, it’s been normal around there. Why?”

Kozume: _Akaashi’s not doing the thing_

“What?”

Kozume: _Try to keep up kuro_  
_Hes not telling bokuto the thing_

Kuroo hummed. “Yeah, now that you mention it. Otherwise he’d be blasting my phone with texts. Wonder what the hold up is. You think he’s got cold feet?” 

Kozume: _Probably_  
_He didnt expect it_

“Are you seriously too lazy to open your mouth?” He tapped the back of the blonde’s head. Kenma only grunted half-heartedly.

Kozume: _Stop that_  
_Go watch the show_

“Kenma, I only have two eyes. I can’t watch the show when you’re texting me instead of talking.”

Kozume: _Just use one eye for the tv and the other one for the phone_

“What? How would that even work?”

Kenma shrugged. 

Kozume: _Youre half biologist you can figure it out_

“I’m not giving myself hypertropia just because you’re lazy. And biochem doesn’t work like some dog breed. I’m not half-biologist half-chemist. It’s its own discipline.”

Kozume: _half biologist_  
_half chemist_  
_full nerd_

Kuroo pinched his cheek, pulling and wiggling it for a few seconds. “Quit being mean!” 

Kenma kicked against him, causing him to let go. In retaliation, Kuroo swung one ridiculously long leg over Kenma’s, clamping down his thighs so that he couldn’t move them, not an inch. He tried wiggling free, but it was a damn fine and heavy leg. 

Kozume: _Thats cheating_

The phone buzzed. Kuroo snickered. “Actually, if I just close my eyes, it’s essentially shutting you up~”

Kenma scoffed and turned his head to see Kuroo, eyes closed indeed. So he reached over and pinched him on the nose, pulling at it like he did with his cheek earlier. As expected, the alpha opened his eyes, and retaliated, digging his fingers into Kenma’s side to tickle him. 

He would rather _die_ than laugh out loud. Kenma curled up into a ball, a hand clamped over his mouth. His shoulders were shaking because he absolutely refused to let anything out, but Kuroo kept tickling him, and he was trying to squirm free-- only to end up nearly falling flat on the floor, had it not been for Kuroo’s arm. 

“Oh shit, sorry…” He said, before snorting in laughter. “My bad, my bad~” 

Kenma elbowed him, but the alpha caught his elbow. 

“Jeez, I already said sorry!” Kuroo pulled him close, their hips touching. His arms remained there, resting on Kenma’s waist. “Are you mad because I tickled you?” 

“Shut up,” he grumbled, his face hot. 

“Aww~ He’s mad!” Kuroo cooed, digging his chin on Kenma’s head again. “That’s cute~” 

“Don’t call me cute,” Kenma snapped. He felt each syllable on his head as Kuroo spoke. 

“Oya oya? I didn’t call _you_ cute!” He smirked. 

Kenma flinched. The heat spread ever so quickly all over his body. In his embarrassment, he curled up, wanting nothing more than to condense and turn into a black hole of shame. It was his fault for being presumptuous and not careful with his words, so he very much deserved that. 

“O-oi…” Kuroo started shaking his shoulder. “You know I was kidding, right? You’re cute, you’re cute!” 

_‘Eh?’_

The omega turned his head slowly, a look of pure disbelief on his face. “Eh?” He said out loud. The rest of his body followed, shifting so that they were face to face, chest to chest. 

Kuroo just said he was cute. Kenma’s heart was beating. 

How he wanted to believe it: the consolation. 

“...Eh?” Kuroo repeated, blinking. 

They stared at each other, perplexed. Both their faces turned red. Kuroo’s hands shot up his face immediately, and Kenma remained in his perpetually confused expression, left speechless by what he had just admitted, and what came after. To his surprise, the drumming of his chest and heat in his face dissipated before Kuroo’s, who remained as he was, hiding behind his hands. Kenma could feel his heartbeat as their bodies were touching, beating like the alpha would explode at any moment. Kuroo was red, so very red; from his ears and his neck, even his fingertips flushed, and it soon became silly instead of embarrassing. Really? When _he_ said it first? 

“...Why are you the one embarrassed?” He refrained from laughing.

“S-shut it…” Kuroo grumbled, peeking at the omega between his fingertips. “Well? You got what you wanted, didn’t you?” 

“I-I didn’t want that…!” Kenma narrowed his eyes. “You started it…” 

Kuroo rolled his eyes. “Oh I did _not,_ ” 

“Did too!” 

“Did not!” 

They argued like that on the couch for a full minute, occasionally kicking at each other or pushing, ending up in a tangle of limbs and their bodies pressed closer; Kuroo’s hand at the small of his back, and his touching the alpha’s chest. Their arguments went nowhere most of the time; not that they minded because it usually ended when a more important matter came up. 

Such was the case when Kuroo’s stomach growled. Kenma heard it, and slapped his stomach. Kuroo grunted in pain, his head bending over to touch Kenma’s shoulder. 

“What was that for?!” He hissed into the omega’s shoulder.

“...I was just surprised,” Kenma mumbled in his ear. It wasn’t completely a lie, but he managed to hit Kuroo out of it. Maybe it was just petty revenge, because Kuroo also lied, calling him cute when he probably didn’t mean it and Kenma nearly fell for it. There was just no way it was possible. 

“Are you a cat? Just slapping stuff so freely...” 

“You’re hungry,” Kenma said, placing another hand on Kuroo’s stomach. A convenient distraction. The alpha stiffened at his touch. 

“Y-yeah,” he said, looking up at the TV instead. “Y’want anything?”

He hummed in thought. There was nothing he particularly wanted right now, nothing Kuroo could prepare. While observing the alpha, he noticed he had very traditional tastes. Whatever he ate was what old people did. Pickles (Kuroo tried explaining to him the science of lactic acid), grilled fish (“docosahexaenoic acid is super important!”), and whatever foods that erred on the healthier side of things. When he wasn’t cooking stuff a grandpa would love to eat, his cooking was simple. 

Though, he never made sweets much, which reminded Kenma. 

“...Hedera’s apple waffle.” He mumbled.

“Huh. Outside for once?”

Kenma nodded. Since he asked, it was okay to answer. 

Kuroo rubbed his chin. “‘Kay, go get dressed then,”

\--- 

Cafe Hedera was bustling with people today. People were chatting, enjoying their afternoon with their friends and colleagues. The scent of coffee and pastries wafted in the air, and the soft hum of ambient music made for a cozy atmosphere. Noontime was their peak hours, and Kenma could see Sugawara up and about flitting from table to table, taking orders, serving coffee, and serving plates of food. Kenma didn’t know how he did it, moving with such energy and enthusiasm, all with a smile on his face. When the beta caught sight of them, that smile widened further, and he turned his heel to meet them. 

“You two! Kuroo and Kenma, was it?” 

Kenma bowed politely. He edged a bit closer to Kuroo, who rest a hand on his shoulder. 

“Let me show you to your seats,” Suga said, gesturing at them to come with. 

“Seems busy today, Suga,” Kuroo said. 

“Yeah,” he sighed, “business has been picking up, and we’ve got our hands full training a new recruit, too!” 

Sugawara led them to an empty seat near the corner. When they were seated across each other, he leaned down and lowered his voice. “Is it okay if I send him to you guys? That way, I can directly check on how he does,” 

“Sure, sure~” Kuroo said, waving.

The beta beamed. “Great! If he messes up, don’t yell at him, okay?” He slapped Kuroo’s back with a resounding noise, causing him to grunt in pain. He walked off, presumably to fetch the new recruit. 

Kuroo used that time to rub his back, hissing in pain. “Jeez, that Suga… Hits like a truck,” he grumbled. 

Kenma chuckled softly, turning his head quickly when Kuroo glared. 

“Here he is!” Suga had returned, bringing along with him the new waiter. 

Kenma couldn’t believe his eyes. Standing next to Sugawara was a shorter male who looked extremely nervous, with wild and fluffy bright orange hair. On his nametag: Hinata [Ω]. 

“...Shouyou?” 

Hinata gasped loudly, his face brightening up at the sight of the fellow omega. “Kenma?!” 

“S-Shouyou…” Kenma repeated, just as the omega crushed him into a tight hug. 

“It’s been so long!” Hinata said, pulling back and inspecting Kenma. “I can’t believe this!”

“You two know each other?” Sugawara looked pleased. “Well! That’s just great!” 

“Hmm, so Kenma has other friends too?” Kuroo said, looking smug. 

Kenma scowled at him. Shouyou looked clueless for a second, then turned and pointed at the alpha. “Ah!” He exclaimed.

“Ah?” Kuroo said, tilting his head. 

Hinata tensed at Kuroo and ducked behind Sugawara, who only laughed. “Come on, Hinata! He's nice!”

“Yo Shrimpy,” Kuroo waved, “you scared of me?”

Hinata glared at Kuroo, trying to look intimidating while simultaneously cowering behind the beta. “M-my name is Hinata Shouyou, not Shrimpy!”

“Issat so? Well, nice to meet you, Hinata…” he smiled kindly, extending a hand.

Hinata tentatively shook it.

“...Shrimpy.” Kuroo ended with a grin. 

Hinata was enraged. “It's not Shrimpy! It's Shouyou!”

“Shouyou, stop. Just ignore him,” Kenma said. “He's a bully,”

Kuroo feigned hurt, “Kenma, how could you? I'm the nicest guy on Earth!” 

Kenma grunted, rolling his eyes.

Sugawara clapped his hands. “Okaaaay! It seems like everyone's getting along just fine! But,” he put a hand on Hinata's shoulder. “We do have a business to run, here! Hinata, would you like to hand them the menus?”

“U-uhh, yes!” He stepped forward and handed them two menus. 

Sugawara beamed like a proud parent. “I'll leave it to you to take their orders, then!” He bowed and left them to attend to the other customers. Hinata looked quite eager to do his job. 

Kenma flipped over to the last page with the desserts. Apple waffles had been replaced with mini apple pies. “Shouyou, I want this,” he pointed. The fellow omega nodded, writing it down on a little notebook. 

“I got it! Anything else?” He looked happy just being able to write something down that Kenma felt pressured to order another just to match his expectations. 

He hesitated before shaking his head. “No… that's it.”

“Awww,” Hinata deflated. “I wanted to write one more!”

“‘Scuse me, but did'ya forget I was here?” Kuroo had his hand raised, wiggling the fingers. 

Kenma snorted when Hinata scowled. Kuroo laughed. 

“I'm the paying customer, y'know~?” The alpha said smugly.

Hinata squinted, before tentatively approaching him. “F-fine. What do you want, then?”

“Oya, shouldn't you be more polite towards your elders?” 

The orange-haired omega grit his teeth. “...What will you be having… sir.”

Kuroo laughed again. “Not _that_ polite!” 

“Grrr… what will y-you be having, then?” 

Kenma had to admit he liked seeing Hinata teased like this. It was like a little bird trying to pick a fight with a cat in the mood for play. Hinata was gripping the pen really hard trying not to shout at Kuroo.

Kuroo waved him off. “I dunno yet, why don't you wait over there and let me think on it~” 

“Why you…! Kenma!” Hinata faced him. He leaned to whisper, his eyes darting furtively at the alpha, who was humming while casually flipping through the menu. Kenma somehow doubted Kuroo was taking that long. He usually ordered fish or something when they were out like this. “Why are you even hanging out with a guy like him? And he's an alpha!” 

“Um…” He tried thinking of a plausible answer Hinata would believe. Or at least one that wouldn't make him yell in surprise. If he mentioned anything about the contract, the whole cafe would know about it before he'd even finish. Instead, he gestured at his phone, and for Hinata to do the same.

KENMA!!!: _He and i are dating_

Shouyou: _Fhiwjfhkjdjdbkwndnsjkabfkwbodbwkzbfhe_  
_hhdhrhxiabjxbdhshhzhfhwjvxjrhsgxiqbkzkwndnjd_  
_HFHJROWBFOWHZBIFHWOOZHFJANYDGGDUFjgoebzcuvq_  
_iJVJEFUWVIBSIBIS????!?!?!?!?!?!!??@?@?@?@,@?@,@;$*@^$£@_

He was so happy technology existed. Beside him, Hinata was practically vibrating, channelling all his shouting into smashing all the keys on his phone. 

Shouyou: _AR EYOU SEIROUS_

KENMA!!!: _Yeah but its no big deal_

Shouyou: _YES IT IS_  
_ITS THE BIGGEST DEAL_  
_DOES AKASSHIKNOW_

KENMA!!!: _Yeah_

Shouyou: _WHY DIDNY YOU TELL ME_

He felt a twinge of guilt. He and Shouyou stopped talking for a while because they had gotten busy and working in different districts and schedules made texting and meeting up nearly impossible. He decided to be upfront about it. 

KENMA!!!: _We havent spoken in a while_  
_So i thought it would be weird_  
_If i just did that_

Shouyou: _DONT BE SILLY I LOVE HEARING FROM YOU_

KENMA!!!: _Oh okay_  
_Sorry_  
_I wont do it again_

Shouyou: _:DDDD U BETTER NOT_  
_but im super duper surprised you're dating someone_  
_i mean_  
_back in high school you were the one who hated it the most_  
_and then suddenly you have a boyfriend???? what happened?????_

KENMA!!!: _Idk_  
_It just happened_

Hinata tensed up beside him. He gave Kenma a worried look.

Shouyou: _he didnt force you did he?? omg kenma i swear ill kick him now im not afraid to start a fight i can probbaly get a few hits in_

He held in a laugh. The image of Hinata trying to drop-kick Kuroo was hilarious. Sure he could jump, but he could easily imagine Kuroo swatting him aside like a fly. His protectiveness was something he liked. 

KENMA!!!: Shouyou no  
_It wasn't like that_  
_Hes okay_  
_Hes nice_  
_When it counts i guess_

Shouyou: _:O_  
_are u sure_  
_he seems like an asshole though!!! >:( _

KENMA!!!: _Yes im sure_  
_Thats just how he is_

Shouyou: okay __  
_You have to tell me more later_  
_i trust u right now bc ur super smart and careful_  
_but if anything happens i wont hesitate!!!!_

__

Kenma chuckled. “You're too nice, Shouyou,” he smiled.

__

Hinata smiled back at him, beaming like a hundred suns. 

__

Kuroo raised a hand. “‘Kaaay, I'm ready to order, Shrimpy. Can I get one grilled salmon fillet, then two shots of espresso? Ah, add an order of hot cocoa to that, too. Thanks,” he said. 

__

Hinata stared at him. 

__

Kuroo looked at him strangely. “...what.”

__

“I’m watching you!” Hinata declared, then scribbled down the orders, bowed, and walked away, leaving the alpha confused.

__

“Huh?” He blinked, glancing at Kenma. “Did he just threaten me? What exactly did you talk to that guy about?” 

__

“Nothing much, just caught up,” he said. Then after a while, he thanked the alpha. 

__

He hummed. “What for?”

__

Kenma's eyes darted around. “That... was intentional, right? You usually order the same thing, so…” 

__

For a second Kuroo looked surprised. “You caught on, huh? Have you been observing me? Aw, I'm so touched to be worthy of your attention~” 

__

Kenma shook his head. “I haven't,”

__

Kuroo snickered. He reached over and ruffled Kenma's head. “Don't lie, Kenma~ You must be totally head over heels for me right now~” 

__

He rolled his eyes and groaned. “You're gross,” he said while Kuroo stuck out his tongue. 

__

“Um,” Kuroo put a hand over his chest like he was so offended, “ _you_ are. Not me.”

__

“Funny, I recall you saying I'm cute, Kuro,” Kenma said. He swallowed right after. It slipped out without him thinking, but if he was correct, then…

__

“Sh-shh!” Kuroo hissed, putting a finger to his lips. As he blabbed on some incomprehensible string of excuses over what happened, Kenma felt satisfaction in knowing he could use Kuroo's lies against him. 

__

Really, who gets that flustered over a joke? 

__

“Why are you so embarrassed over a joke, Kuro?” he laughed.

__

Kuroo scowled, clamping a hand over his nose. Whatever he said was muffled.

__

“What?” Kenma tipped close to hear. “What did you say, Kuro?” 

__

The alpha stared at him. He took a deep breath and removed his hand from his mouth. “I said, it wasn’t a joke.” 

__

He blinked. “Don’t be silly,” he said, almost bitterly. “Taking jokes that far…”

__

“I-I’m not!” Kuroo insisted.

__

“No.” 

__

“Yes.”

__

_“No.”_ His face began heating up again. 

__

_“Yes!”_ And Kuroo’s face was the same.

__

Their arguments slowly trailed off into silence. Here Kuroo was, insisting he was cute when Kenma had all the reason not to believe him. The alpha was provocative. His words were designed to provoke in two ways: to fight an to flirt. Mostly the former. For all he knew, Kuroo was just doing this to tease him later, and say “you fell for it”, and Kenma knew he would never hear the end. He also believed there was absolutely no physical evidence to back up the statement. Kenma didn’t look anything out of the ordinary, save for his half-bleached hair. He had a thin frame, and did nothing but play games, keep a low profile, and be a pain to deal with. There was nothing absolutely cute about that. He kept maintaining it to himself; the notion anyone would find him cute means they’re an equally horrible person with horrible taste. 

__

It must be a pheromones thing. 

__

Yes, it must be. 

__

It’s the only way he can rationalize it. 

__

So that’s what he said. 

__

“...Pheromones,”

__

“Pheromones?” 

__

“Pheromones,” He said with a nod. 

__

“Pheromones…” Kuroo slowly nodded after him, easily accepting their newfound excuse. 

__

That didn’t mean they could just make eye contact, though. And they remained like that, doing their best to return to the casual atmosphere they were accustomed to around each other, albeit without looking, or touching on delicate topics. What conversational topics they had was rife with tones awkwardness; simple questions meeting simpler and curt responses such as: ‘how’s your game?’ met with ‘it’s fine,’ and ‘how’s the… news?’ met with ‘not much,’ all of which went nowhere, although they tried to grasp at any topic thread to take them somewhere, all to avoid the topic of Kenma’s cuteness, and Kuroo’s honesty. 

__

Eventually their attempts faded into silence. Tense and awkward silence mended by distractions. Kenma played games on his phone while Kuroo was on his, typing hard that Kenma could hear his fingers rapidly tapping the screen. 

__

“Hi, here's your order,” Sugawara said, breaking the tension as he lowered their tray of food. Hinata was behind him, carrying the tray of drinks. “Grilled salmon for Kuroo, and mini apple pies for Kenma, right?” He smiled.

__

Kenma nodded, mumbling some thanks as the food was served. The steaming pastry smelled strongly of apples and cinnamon, heavenly to Kenma's nose. The crust was golden, flaky, and the cute lattice swelled from the filling underneath. His mouth watered. 

__

Hinata served their drinks. He put down the cocoa in front of Kenma, then scowled at Kuroo when delivering the espresso. 

__

Sugawara chuckled. “Now Hinata, this is a good opportunity to offer the customer more options. Since Kenma ordered some apple pies, you can usually offer them some…?”

__

“Ice cream!” Hinata answered.

__

“Good! Go ahead then,” he gestured at Kenma. 

__

“Uhh, Kenma-- I-I mean, _w-would you like to have a scoop of ice cream with your order, sir?_ ” Hinata asked stiffly.

__

Seeing him try so hard, Kenma wanted to humor him a bit, so he nodded. The omega brightened up, turning to Sugawara who pat his head fondly and praised him. 

__

_‘Ah, Shoyou's powers are working,’_ he thought to himself. Hinata had the uncanny ability of being completely likable to most people. That was cute, not him. 

__

Sugawara excused himself again, and Hinata went to fetch the ice cream. He returned with a cup of ice cream with tiny dark flecks of vanilla bean. Hinata told him he helped churn the cream yesterday and that is was super good and Kenma should take his word for it. 

__

When the omega left, Kenma and Kuroo began eating. The mini apple pies were scrumptious and warm, and he loved the crunch of the pie crust and the sweetness of the filling. Paired with the vanilla ice cream, each bite melted into one another, the coldness complimenting the warmth, a wonderful treat. He thoroughly enjoyed every single bite.

__

Kuroo reached over with a spoon. Kenma stopped him with his fork.

__

“Wha-- Kenma, give me some!” He pushed his spoon forward.

__

“No, it's mine.” Kenma pushed back.

__

Kuroo groaned. “I just need one spoon for an affogato. One.”

__

“It's _mine,_ ” 

__

“I'm paying.”

__

“Oh,” Kenma dropped his gaze. “I...ffogat...o,”

__

Kuroo laughed his ugly laugh, clutching his stomach. Kenma found himself chuckling along, holding his head down as to not attract the attention of the other customers. 

__

After they settled down, Kuroo sighed with satisfaction. “Oh my god, ‘i-ffogat-o’, he groaned, “I love puns,”

__

“Ugh, of course you would,” Kenma rolled his eyes. 

__

“Uh-huh~” Kuroo nodded, scooping up some of his ice cream.

__

Kenma was too late to stop his spoon and had to endure the alpha's gloating as he stirred the ice cream into the absurdly small espresso cup., clinking the glass like an imbecile to purposefully let Kenma know he let this happen. He drank it in one shot, licking his lips afterwards. 

__

“That was good,” he said. 

__

The omega grimaced. “I hate coffee,” he said, taking a sip of hot cocoa. Much better.

__

“Duh, s'why I got that for you,” said Kuroo while pointing at his mug. “I'm such a martyr, honestly, making sure you eat and drink,” 

__

Kenma frowned. “Nobody told you to order it,”

__

The alpha crossed his arms. “That’s why I did, because if I didn’t,” he pointed, “ _you_ would be dehydrated, and then you’d be too nervous to ask for water, right?” 

__

He couldn’t deny that it was a very good possibility it would have happened. He kept his frown and glanced away. “Thanks,” he mumbled. It was impossible to dislike considerate people, Kenma decided.

__

Kuroo ruffled his head as usual, “You’re welcome,” he replied. “Do me a favor though? Take care of yourself, don’t forget to drink water. Honestly, I’m just glad you decided you wanted to eat today,” he sighed. 

__

“W-why do you care so much?” Kenma couldn’t help but ask. Wasn’t it just easier to leave those matters alone? Not that he was ungrateful, but Kuroo was making an effort beyond their contract. Kindness to this extent was a foreign thing to him, after all. 

__

“Isn’t it obvious?” Kuroo said, puffing his chest out. “We’re _boyfriends,_ right?” 

__

So it was obligation keeping him that way. He made a noise at the statement, shrugging. 

__

Kuroo had that look on his face again. Like he was analyzing something. “I mean,” he said, rubbing his neck, “it’s not _just_ because we’re in this… ‘thing’ together, but I also care because you’re my friend. I mean, I _hope_ you consider us friends. Are we?”

__

Kenma was taken aback despite his deadpan expression. It was affirming to know Kuroo did consider them as friends. Pleasing. “...There’s ‘friends’ in ‘boyfriends’,” he said, finding no good excuse to look Kuroo in the eyes. 

__

“Hey, I’ll take it,” Kuroo said. Kenma caught him grinning. 

__

“We are,” he managed to say, just short of stammering it out, “friends. Kuro, you’re not a pain to deal with, and you’re considerate of me. You’re also not... What I’m s-saying is…” He felt his cheeks heat up once more as he kept talking, and he was all the more aware of how crude his words sounded, “we’re friends, and I don’t hate you.” 

__

Kuroo clutched at his chest. “Oh my god, I think I’m getting a heart attack…” He said, sounding almost as if he could cry. “Kenma, that’s surprisingly nice of you to say!” 

__

“Don’t make a big deal about it…” He muttered, feeling sheepish. 

__

“No, the fact you said something about it in the first place means something, you know? You barely talk in the first place. Hell, you mostly texted me this morning!” 

__

His throat was choked. “I-I just…” 

__

“You mean something to me,” Kuroo said. Sincerely. “So take care of yourself, ‘kay? Don’t want my _boyfriend_ collapsing just because he didn’t drink water, one day~” 

__

As usual, he reached over to ruffle Kenma’s hair, and Kenma let himself lean closer to his touch. 

__

\---

__

Back home, Kenma was laying on the couch left all too aware of the new connection he and Kuroo had: ‘friends,’ and ‘contracted partners’ could apparently coexist in the same bubble. It had been over a month now since he moved in, and they had come from exchanging shirts to proxy-marking, to ‘boyfriends’, and now actual friends. Funny how out of order it all went. What was next? Fake-marriage before a confession? Telling their parents before they make out? He wanted to laugh. Kenma doubted he’d tell his parents. He’d rather go through the other three hypotheticals than tell his parents. 

__

“What’cha thinking about?” Kuroo pressed a glass of water to his cheek. 

__

“Mm, that’s cold,” He took the glass. “I don’t need water,”

__

“Yes you do,” Kuroo said, taking a seat next to him. “One glass of cocoa won’t do it for a single day,”

__

“You had a shot of espresso, Kuro,” said Kenma.

__

“Yeah, but I drink lots when at home. And I exercise, so I drink plenty,” Kuroo said.

__

“I haven’t seen you exercise,” he said. Now that he mentioned it, he hadn’t been woken up by Kuroo’s pheromones recently. He didn’t miss it. 

__

“Ah, I’ve been working out with Bo, he said. “Every Tuesday and Thursday, yeah? I work out at his house now. We spot each other lifting weights and try to compete for endurance.”

__

“Why don’t you just go upstairs?” Kenma pointed up. 

__

“Well, you smelled it from the first floor the last time so doing it upstairs won’t make that much of a difference,” 

__

“But smells go up,” Kenma said.

__

Kuroo was interrupted by the doorbell. He looked annoyed being interrupted, but got up and answered it. Kenma watched him open the door. As soon as the gap was wide enough, a foot shot out and kicked the alpha in the leg. 

__

“Ow!” Kuroo yelped, holding his thigh. “What the hell, Yakkun?!”

__

The door swung open to reveal a very short person with light brown hair. He held a neatly-folded lab coat over his arm and smelled medicinal and antiseptic, just like Kuroo when he got back from work that one day. 

__

It was ‘Yaku.’

__

Yaku stepped inside, walking past the alpha. When their eyes met, he straightened up and looked nervous, due to the fact Kenma had seen him acting so violently. 

__

“Oh,” he said, scratching his cheek. “Um, who are you?” 

__

“My boyfriend,” Kuroo said, limping. “You really did a number on my patella there, Yakkun. At least try to hit my femur next time!”

__

“You like being hit that much?” Yaku said, his eyes narrowed. 

__

“Nah, I just think you can go a bit higher-- Hey!” Kuroo leaped out of the way of Yaku’s kick. 

__

The omega straightened himself up once more, this time approaching Kenma after scoffing at Kuroo. Kenma tensed up and wanted to flee. Yaku put out a hand, and Kenma shook it briefly, hoping his hands weren’t clammy. 

__

“I’m Morisuke Yaku, but you can call me Yaku,” he said, smiling warmly. “I’m co-workers with Kuroo, nice to meet you,” he bowed. 

__

Kenma bowed as well, “I-I’m Kenma. Kozume Kenma,” he mumbled, looking away. “Nice to meet you,”

__

Yaku glared at Kuroo. “Hey, you didn’t tell me about this,” he said. “Can we talk outside?” He looked angry, and had his fists raised. 

__

“Wha-- are you going to punch me?!”

__

“No, we’re just going to _talk._ ”

__

“Put down your fists and then we can talk,” Kuroo said, gesturing at him to stand down. “I don’t negotiate with terrorists--” Kuroo got sucker punched in the gut for that. Yaku didn’t spare him a glance as he lurched over, gripping his stomach in pain. 

__

“Well,” Yaku bowed again, “I’ll be talking to him outside for a bit now. I’m so sorry for this commotion,” He gripped Kuroo by the arm and dragged him outside. “Come on now, we have important things to talk about here,” the omega hissed. 

__

The door slammed behind them. 

__

They were going to talk outside about important things. Important things, possibly about work, which meant something Kenma couldn’t hear. 

__

Kenma snuck over to the door and pressed his ear against the wood. He could only hear mumbling, catching only a word or a phrase at most. 

__

“...called, and he…” 

__

“...believe… know…”

__

“...deal with…”

__

“Are you…about it...”

__

These phrases, followed by others: Lab. Production. Pheromones. Organize; frustratingly unspecific words to Kenma.

__

Then, the voices got closer, though much hushed. He retreated to the couch, settling in his corner as the door opened. He sensed it before he saw-- Kuroo’s anger. Behind Yaku, Kuroo’s face was darkened, his brows knit together, jaw clenched tight. 

__

_‘That’s not Kuroo,’_ he thought, standing up. _‘I need to get him back,’_ His feet moved close to the alpha, but was stopped by Yaku, who shook his head. 

__

“Kenma, was it? How about we go somewhere? Let’s have a talk, too…” Yaku said, already moving them somewhere else. Kenma wanted to shake his head; Kuroo’s expression wasn’t changing, and he _had_ to alleviate it somehow. 

__

Because he felt Kuroo was _hurt._

__

Yaku took him out through the back door. They sat down at the patio, Kenma furtively glancing at the door. The brown-haired omega broke the silence with a loud sigh. “Man, that Kuroo…” he rubbed the bridge of his nose, “he’s a handful, huh? Sorry you had to see me so… unruly a while ago, but you know how he is,” he laughed.

__

Kenma took a while to nod. He didn’t say anything back, which made it awkward. 

__

“W-well, you know, he didn’t tell me he had a boyfriend! Jeez, the moment he gets off work, he just goes for it, huh? So how long have you guys been dating?” He asked. 

__

The blonde tensed. Kuroo never told anyone else? They never discussed a cover story for these things! “A-a month ago,” he said, adding “Officially,” just in case they needed some leeway. 

__

Yaku seemed convinced. “I see! I’m surprised he found time to date actually. He’s an insane workaholic, that guy. I’m surprised you got to know him well enough to date. Where’d you guys meet?” 

__

“...A cafe,” he said. It wasn’t a lie. It seemed Yaku didn’t know he was just a contracted omega, which was surprising, because Kuroo told him he was running ‘experiments.’ He hated reminding himself it was just an experiment, when they had admitted they were friends earlier. It felt wrong. 

__

“Oh,” Yaku said. He clearly expected Kenma to say more, but what could Kenma say? It got awkward fast, and Kenma wanted to go back inside and calm Kuroo. For some reason it was important to him. Even if he knew Kuroo could deal with his emotions like an adult; that Yaku was the one who brought the bad news, and Kenma wanted to resent him despite knowing he was just another person. Kuroo’s co-worker, and a fellow omega who was close enough to him to casually hit him around. 

__

Kenma’s eye twitched. His fingers tensed before he relaxed on the chair again. It seemed Yaku sensed this. After all, they were fellow omegas. 

__

“I just want you to know, I’m not interested in him,” he said. “He’s just…” Yaku grimaced, “not my type. We’re too different,”

__

Kenma asked suddenly: “What’s the differences?” 

__

Yaku rubbed his chin. “Well, for one, he and I have totally different preferences. You know he likes fish, right? I like meat. He eats like an old man, too! I don’t blame him, since he lived a lot with his grandparents…” And on Yaku went. 

__

Kenma stared at him as he spoke, absorbing all the information. Most of them were preferences, but some of them had history. From what he had gathered, Kuroo and Yaku had been co-workers for four years under the same research team headed by a man named Yasafumi Nekomata, the head of their pharmaceutical research company, who later handed down the reins of their project to Kuroo. 

__

“I'm surprised you don't know this,” Yaku said. “Seems like he didn't tell you, huh?”

__

Kenma nodded. 

__

“That's so him,” Yaku said with a scowl,”not telling his own boyfriend this stuff! Just remember, he's the sort of guy who'll never talk about stuff that bothers him,” Yaku sighed, then smiled at him, reaching over and patting his arm, “though, I'm sure if _you_ ask, he'll tell you!” 

__

Kenma nodded. “T-thank you for the advice,” he mumbled.

__

Yaku blinked. Then he laughed. “Hey, no need to be so stiff! Guys like us need to help each other out, right? Here,” he took out his phone, giving his fellow omega his number. 

__

Once they exchanged contact info, Yaku smiled again. “Thanks! Go ahead and text me for anything, okay? And I mean _anything._ ” 

__

After all, omegas had to look out for each other. 

__

Yaku glanced at his wristwatch. “Oh, it's about time I get going,” he got up and so did Kenma. 

__

“Um, Y-Yaku…” Kenma stammered. His eyes darted around, “what was it, that you were talking about earlier?” 

__

The brown-haired omega stared at him. He froze. 

__

“It's not my place to say,” Yaku said quietly. “That's something you should ask him, I think.”

__

Maybe he will.

__

He and Yaku went back inside. Kuroo was sitting on the couch looking just as menacing as earlier, but the look faded as Yaku approached him, Kenma right behind. 

__

“Hey,” Yaku said, “I'm heading out now,” then, as if remembering something, “don't forget about the party, okay? They're organizing right now, but for sure it'll happen.”

__

“Ah? ‘Kay,” Kuroo said, sounding weary. “Well? How's the talk with my boyfriend here, Yakkun?” He was trying to smirk but it only came out as a pained smile.

__

“It was good, actually! Kenma's pretty cool, even if he's shy!” 

__

Kuroo's face brightened. “Right? Once you get past the shyness, he's super cute~”

__

Kenma flushed and Yaku smiled knowingly. 

__

When Yaku left, Kuroo deflated. He groaned in frustration and laid over the couch, his long body taking up nearly the whole space. 

__

“I hate parties,” he grunted into the leather. “Why'd Yakkun have to remind me…” 

__

Kenma sat on the floor, by him. “You hate parties, Kuro?” 

__

“Yeah, the fancy black tie event sort. Suuuper stuffy and full of people who are even fuller of themselves,” he scoffed. “Normal drinking parties are fine ‘cause I can fool around in those, but not black ties,” 

__

Kenma nodded, resting his head against Kuroo's arm. “I didn't expect that,” he said.

__

“I'm full of surprises,” Kuroo said, still muffled by the couch. He slung his arm over Kenma's shoulder.

__

_‘And I'll find them all,’_ he thought. 

__

They stayed like that for a bit. Kenma didn't mind this time; somehow they needed that bit of silence. Kuroo got up later, ruffling his hair on the way up. 

__

“Thinking of heading up early,” he said. “Can you fix yourself dinner?” 

__

“I'm 27,” Kenma said. Kuroo chuckled. 

__

“Don't forget to drink water,” he reminded. “And the pots are in the third cabinet to the right,”

__

“I know, Kuro. I know,” 

__

“Seems like my baby boy is all grown up, then. Night~” he waved, and headed upstairs.

__

Kenma watched him silently. 

__

He wanted to do something. Something meaningful. 

__

\---

__

He wasn't the best at it, but it was something. Kenma tried his hardest not to buckle under the weight of the tray. He had already spilled a couple of drops, and he thought that it was definitely not the best impression he could put out for the alpha.

__

Upon reaching Kuroo's room, he glanced down at the two bowls of ramen on his tray, then at the knob. The tray, then the knob.

__

He wished he had a third arm.

__

Sadly, he had to kick the door instead. 

__

Kuroo answered a while later, looking disgruntled at first, then when he realized what Kenma was doing, a wide grin spread across his face.

__

“Oya oya~?”

__

“Don't make it weird, Kuro,” Kema muttered.

__

‘Kay, ‘kay~ wanna come in?”

__

Kenma grunted yes, and Kuroo relieved him of the tray. He was glad. 

__

He stepped inside. 

__

Kuroo's room was larger than his and smelled strongly of him, deep chocolate. Bookshelves filled with thick books labeled with chemistry and biology, taller than Kuroo himself. A desk piled with papers and folders, organized neatly with a desktop setup beside it. It was open on a document printed too small to read. Near the desk was the bed, wider than Kenma’s fitted with dark blue sheets and white pillows. The comforter was laying neatly over it. 

__

He sighed.

__

“What’s with that reaction? Not to your liking?” Kuroo put down the tray on the bed. 

__

“No, I just… Expected more science stuff. It’s normal here,” Kenma told him. 

__

Kuroo made a face. “What do you think I am?” 

__

_‘Weird. Full of secrets. Interesting.’_

__

“You should eat it before it gets cold,” he pointed at the food.

__

“Hmm~? Are we switching roles now?” Kuroo sat down gently next to the tray.

__

Kenma rolled his eyes. “Ew,”

__

Kuroo chuckled, took a spoon and tried it. He hummed and licked his lips. “Not bad,” he said. 

__

“I know you like vegetables, so I put some,” Kenma told him, taking a seat himself, the tray between him and Kuroo. The bed was more firm than he had expected, but the sheets felt nice.

__

“I can tell,” said the alpha. “So you know how to cook, huh?” 

__

“It’s just pack ramen,” he said, taking a bowl. “And frying stuff. That’s about it,” 

__

“Want me to teach you?” Kuroo ate another spoonful, chewing. 

__

“...Maybe,” he darted his eyes around. 

__

“Tomorrow then, for lunch,” Kuroo said. 

__

He watched Kuroo eat after that. Kenma was focused on every single one of his reactions, the slightest twitch of an eye or pause in chewing. What if he didn’t think it was good? What if the carrots he added were too hard or mushy? His own bowl was fine, but what if he messed up Kuroo’s? Funny how he cared now, when it came to him. Kenma knew if he were eating alone, anything goes. Not with Kuroo.

__

Kenma had to care. Because they were _friends._ And because that is what they were, he had to ask: “Do you want to talk about it?” 

__

And Kuroo froze, before putting the bowl down. “What’s this?”

__

‘Ramen’, was what he wanted to say. To break off some of the edge where their conversation was heading. “I just… You know…”

__

“Kenma?” Kuroo looked concerned again. 

__

_‘I should be the one looking like that, not you.’_

__

“It’s just what friends do, right?” He blurted out, gripping his bowl hard. He kept reminding himself right after they were friends, and what he had just done was in no way overstepping their contract. Friends. 

__

The alpha was speechless. Then he burst out laughing. 

__

Kenma stood up, fully intending to leave. 

__

“No wait,” Kuroo snorted out, “come sit back down!”

__

“...No,” Kenma grunted, wishing to dump the rest of his food down the trash, then himself after. 

__

“Come on, Kenmaaaa!” 

__

He sat back down on the edge, as if to say ‘Okay, but I’m also ready to run away at any given moment.’ 

__

Kuroo was smiling, which made Kenma shift a bit closer to leaving. 

__

“Thanks, Kenma,” he said. “I mean it. This? This means a lot,”

__

Kenma nodded. “...Nnbigdeal,” he mumbled. “What… happened?” 

__

That slightly worried expression on the raven-haired man made Kenma curious. “Well,” he sighed, “according to Yakkun, my dad called the lab,” 

__

“Why would he do that?” 

__

Kuroo blew through his teeth, crossing his arms as he wrinkled his brows in thought. “Y’see, he and I aren’t on the best of terms. Kinda cut him off a while back,” 

__

Kenma leaned closer, eyes wide with interest. “Then…?” 

__

“He figured out where I worked and started pestering me there. I told him to knock it off, and he eventually did, but if he called now, then something’s up, and I don’t want to deal with it,” he said. “Especially…” He trailed off, as if deciding whether or not to continue. 

__

He could understand. He knew what it was like, having your parents cut away and only as a last resort. Kenma didn’t know who Kuroo’s father was or what he did, but if it was enough to piss off a guy like Kuroo, it was probably very bad. “Especially…?”

__

“Especially, since he’s a big pain in the ass.” 

__

Kenma tilted his head. Somehow that didn’t feel right. “Is that enough to piss you off?” 

__

The alpha touched his own face. “Was I really pissed off earlier?” 

__

Kenma nodded. “You… Smelled like that time in the grocery,” he said. “But kind of more burnt?” 

__

“Huh,” Kuroo said, rubbing his chin. “Didn’t know that.” 

__

“That you smell differently with your emotions?” 

__

Kuroo noddeed. “I heard omegas have a sharper sense of smell. Alphas, you can say, have a wider range of detection, but can’t differentiate stuff like moods,”

__

Kenma grimaced. “Makes sense,”

__

“That’s really interesting though. What do I smell like right now?” He offered his arm out to Kenma. 

__

He sniffed. “I can’t smell anything there, it has to be closer, or you have to sweat.” 

__

“Closer, like here?” Kuroo pointed to his neck. 

__

Kenma slid the tray aside, scooted over, and smelled his neck. It smelled normal, but kind of brighter? “Just the usual, like chocolate,” 

__

“Chocolate? I smell like chocolate to you?” Kuroo looked surprised. “That’s the first time,” he said.

__

“You can’t tell, Kuro?” That sounded interesting. 

__

Kuroo shook his head. “Nah, I didn’t. Hey, you think other omegas can smell me like that? Yakkun never told me. Well, he probably can’t, not with the spray at work, but he saw me today, so can you text him about it?” 

__

“Why are you so curious? And how’d you know I have his number?” 

__

“I mean,” Kuroo drew a circle in the air, “omegas have this pack-mentality thing, right? I’m sure he’d have done that sort of thing, to be safe,” 

__

“...Do I need to feel in danger around you?” 

__

Kuroo shook his head. “Nah.”

__

It sounded real, even inside the alpha’s room. “Mmm.” 

__

“I’m so glad you trust me~” he grinned. 

__

Kenma considered his words carefully. “I’d trust you more if… You told me things.” 

__

“Like what?” 

__

“I don’t know,” Kenma shrugged, “things… about you?”

__

Kuroo considered it. “About me, huh? Then, why don’t you just ask?” 

__

“Is it legal?” 

__

Kuroo snorted. “Anything but _that,_ I said. We’re friends, so ask away and I’ll answer it, but only if I can ask some back,” 

__

This was an opportunity to investigate. And know more about his friend. Two birds with one stone. 

__

So Kenma did. 

__

He took a moment at first, thinking about normal-sounding questions that could maybe dance around the topic so he could figure it out later, but eventually he let the agenda retreat to the back of his mind, opting for questions that drifted wherever the answers took them. He asked how Kuroo was in Kamigawa, and according to him the school was tough as nails but he loved the challenge and the curriculum. Somehow it drifted to why he called Bokuto ‘babes’ sometimes, and it was because they actually dated for a bit. Kuroo, to piss off his dad, and Bokuto, to impress his.

__

“You have daddy issues,” Kenma said. 

__

“Who doesn’t in this day and age?” Kuroo answered. They both laughed. 

__

They found themselves lying on the bed exchanging questions and answers after. The tray had been disposed of, so they could stretch comfortably. 

__

Kuroo grew up in the countryside. Kenma was a city boy throughout his life. They both liked watching horror movies; Kuroo to see the special effects and the biology of demons (nerd stuff) and Kenma for the plot and the atmosphere. Kuroo liked going to the beach in summer. Kenma liked to stay indoors to keep finishing his backlog of video games. Kuroo was respectful towards and liked the elderly. Kenma was skeptical of them. 

__

“What? Old people are nice!” Kuroo said in disbelief. 

__

“They’re scary sometimes,” Kenma told him. “Their eyes creep me out…” 

__

Kuroo flicked his nose. “Don’t be mean, they’re just near-sighted!”

__

“Ow. I’m not being mean, I’m telling the truth. You’re just mad because you’re an old man at heart,” he rubbed his nose, playfully slapping the alpha’s arm. 

__

“I just have traditional tastes! Why do people call me that all the time?” 

__

Kenma yawned before he could answer. Had time passed by that quickly?

__

“Oya, sleepy? You should go to bed soon, so you can grow nice and tall like me,” Kuroo said. 

__

Kenma rubbed his face against the pillow. “Mmm, that sounds like a nightmare,” he said, blinking hard. 

__

“Why?” 

__

“Kuro, you... Lean a little, when going under…” he yawned, rubbing his teary eyes, “doorways. Bad experience?”

__

“You can say that right,” the alpha said. “Hey, are you falling asleep?” 

__

Kenma nodded. He didn’t want to get up, but he knew he had to. With a groan, he pushed himself up before sliding back down. 

__

“Kenma,” Kuroo narrowed his eyes. “Get up, back to your room,”

__

“Mmmlazy,” he mumbled. 

__

The alpha sighed. “‘Kay, well, scoot over a bit.” He went to retrieve something from a cabinet. He threw it at the bed, and it landed with a soft ‘fwump.’ 

__

It was a long grilled fish pillow. 

__

Kenma, in his sleep-addled state, gripped it tightly. “Heh, cute,” he said, pulling it closer to him. 

__

“Nah,” Kuroo said. "You are,"

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I'm so sorry for the delay :( I got swamped with class, but to make it up to you guys, I wrote a lot for this chapter, and I hope you guys enjoy! 
> 
> Regarding the delay, I just want to say that I'll try to get back to the usual posting schedule of every 3-4 days, but I might have more uni stuff to deal with in the future, so week-long absences should be expected (though hopefully not often D:) 
> 
> As usual, thanks for the support! 
> 
> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/danmujiji) to get notified on updates/progress and kuroken/anime tweets!! Feel free to hmu any time as well just to talk, or ask questions (I love getting those!!)


	17. Playing Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A compromising position forces Kuroo's hand (and his feelings.) Kenma doesn't quite get it, but he's getting there. Akaashi and Bokuto on the other hand, have gotten there.

A different ceiling, with a circular ceiling light. A different feeling of silky sheets on a firm bed, a fluffy comforter over his body. A familiar scent, subtle and chocolate. Birds were chirping outside the window, accompanied by the soft hum of an air conditioning unit. The bed creaked as Kenma sat up, blinking slowly before rubbing his eyes open. Sunlight streamed in from a gap between the curtains, making the room glow warmly. He yawned and stretched, grunting as he relaxed his muscles and laid back down on the pillows. He sighed with contentment, having slept better than the last time he could remember, wrapping his whole body around a long pillow and hugging it close. 

Wait, he didn’t own a long pillow. Should he open his eyes?

He was so comfortable, though. Kenma wondered if it was just a dream and if he should even bother to check. He hugged the pillow even closer, curling up around it. His foot touched something warm, and he jerked it back, his eyes flashing open in alarm. He jolted upright, finally realizing where he was, and how he got there. 

Right next to him, separated by a thin barrier of fish plush toy, was Kuroo.

He flushed. To think he had fallen asleep that easily, and just from talking to Kuroo at that! 

The alpha was sleeping on his stomach, his head practically smashed between two pillows which muffled his snoring. It sounded like purring, to which Kenma sighed with relief because he wasn’t awake. With nobody else to hear him, he let out a chuckle. He jolted when the snoring stopped, thinking Kuroo had some freakish hearing, only to relax as the ‘purring’ continued. 

Kenma sighed again, leaning against the headboards. He glanced at the room again; Kuroo’s, filled with his belongings, and his scent. He was no longer aroused by it, at least, not in a normal way like this, and for that he was glad. Now, it was like waking up to a mug of hot chocolate, all warm and sweet, but Kuroo was sleeping, and Kenma could tell that he was sleeping well. 

Without much thought to it, he reached for his head, his fingers sliding through the alpha’s hair. It was unexpectedly soft and fluffier than he expected. Turns out, it wasn’t a gelled-up mess, but a natural phenomenon caused by his sleeping position. The sides of the pillow guided the hairs to stick up like a rooster’s comb. He stroked again, feeling Kuroo tilt his head towards the touch, leaving the omega wondering if this is how he felt whenever the alpha would pat _his_ head. 

Fleeting fondness was replaced by embarrassment at what he was doing. Kenma gripped Kuroos hair. Kuroo ceased his snoring and grunted. 

Kenma’s tutted, so he rocked Kuroo’s head back and forth to wake him. Shouldn’t it be him who should be up and about this early? 

Instead of getting up, Kuroo grunted again. 

Would he get up just to feed him? “Kuro, I’m hungry,” he muttered at the alpha. After all, he drove them to Hedera just for waffles yesterday. 

The alpha groaned into the pillow for a while, whatever words he could be saying muffled by the pillow. Kenma let go of his hair, and tapped his shoulder instead, calling out to him repeatedly. Still to no avail, Kuroo kept groaning into the pillow, and he could only differentiate them by tone. This was an entirely new thing, a Kuroo who only communicated in grunts. 

“Kuro, get up.”

“Mmm…?” (‘Why?’)

“I said, I’m hungry,” 

“Mm, Mm mmhm…” (‘Then, go downstairs...’)

Kenma pushed his shoulder. Then he leaned against him, trying to push him off the bed, only because it would be funny if it happened, and Kuroo would finally get up. Still, he wouldn’t budge and Kenma quickly got tired of putting his entire body weight to move a man who was dead-set on not getting up. It felt like he was getting some sort of comeuppance, only he was sure literally anyone could pick him up and throw him off the bed if they so pleased. 

An arm swung over his waist and gripped tightly, pressing them together. The first thing Kenma thought, before he even thought of escaping, or scratching the arm, or even kicking the person its attached to was how warm it was, and how much of a pain it would be, to get up and get cold again. How well he fit nestled in Kuroo’s side. He didn’t need to be there anymore, since his whole body was heating up, but he didn’t move either, because it felt like breaking that spell of acceptance that was cast on him. Was he allowed to… enjoy this, even if it was just for a moment? It felt a bit too much, given the circumstances. 

He didn’t know what it was like to have a boyfriend, only a “boyfriend”, if that even made much sense. 

Which was precisely why it felt too much to be feeling like they fit together so well, and Kenma felt afraid because he wouldn’t be able to tell the distinction someday. 

And maybe he wouldn’t care when that happened.

And that would be terrible, because it would be something entirely unexpected of him, an unprecedented in what he expected to be from a simple and convenient arrangement. 

Kenma chuckled. That was bold of him, assuming he even had a shot at becoming anything real to Kuroo. 

“Hey Kuro, do you hate me?” He asked to nobody in particular. It didn’t even feel like he actually said it out loud. His words could have been absorbed by the hum of the AC. 

“No, why the hell would I?” Kuroo spoke with a yawn, shifting his body to the side so that his mouth was no longer muffled. “Mornin’ boyfriend,” he said, smacking his lips. “Eugh,” he groaned.

Kenma froze. “M-morning,” he mumbled as usual. Was that directed at him, or something else? Why did he care? 

Kuroo pushed himself up, glancing at the omega with half-lidded eyes. The pillows truly were the culprit behind his hair; the ultimate crime. They were stuck up a bit differently, but still retained that messy spikiness Kenma had gotten used to. He turned his head away when he noticed Kuroo was staring back at him. He just noticed now that Kuroo had eyebags. Whatever for? He always went to bed earlier than Kenma, but last night was the exception. 

“You know, I’m surprised you’re still here,” he said. “I thought you’d have gotten up by now.”

“I got lazy,” Kenma told him, closing his eyes as Kuroo ruffled his hair. 

“When _aren’t_ you lazy?” 

He frowned. “I made you food last night.”

“Do you want to make us some breakfast then?” Kuroo grinned playfully. 

Kenma groaned. “No,”

“You _are_ lazy.” 

“It’s just that your bed is nice,” he said, muffling his voice with a sleeve. 

Kuroo blinked, then rubbed his neck, looking sheepish all of a sudden. “Is it? I didn’t think you’d like it, I’ve been told it’s too firm,”

Kenma made a face. “You fucked on this bed,” he got up, looking disgusted at the alpha. 

“What? Why is _that_ your first assumption? I went mattress shopping! With Bo!” 

“You fucked _him_ on this bed,” Kenma shook his head, grimacing a lot. He sat at the edge, glaring at him. Though, he mostly meant his actions as a joke. “I can’t believe this,” 

Kuroo on the other hand, seemed fully affected by the act. “He threw himself here one time, and I happened to be on the bed!” 

“Disgusting,” Kenma scoffed.

“Are you seriously mad about that? Come on, Kenma…” He held Kenma’s shoulders, playfully rocking him back and forth. “If it makes you happy, I’m going to tell you a secret: I’m a virgin.” 

Kenma stared at him. Kuroo stared back with the look of a man who knew he would win. He chuckled anyway, snorting into his sleeve. The alpha was pleased with his reaction, grinning from ear to ear like an idiot. When Kenma had settled, he had a different look on. Something was interesting. 

“So that was funny to you, because you think I’m hot enough to fuck,” 

“Others,” Kenma cut in. Not him. “Don’t use me to flatter yourself, Kuro.” 

“Ouch, you’re being extra cranky today, Kenma~” He cooed. Kuroo leaned in close, their noses nearly touching. Kenma was frozen by all the fine details he was taking in: Kuroo’s hazel eyes, always looking sly, the narrow bridge of his nose, and his smooth face. He could feel the other’s breath against his lips, which made him all too aware of just how close they were to each other. Again, he could only take in parts of him at a time, because the whole thing felt overwhelming. The alpha took his pause to turn it into an opportunity, a smirk as usual on his face. “Is my boyfriend mad I had history~?”

“Ew,” Kenma jerked his face away. “I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed,” 

“Oya? What were you expecting?” 

What _was_ he expecting? “That you’d be an upstanding, and morally upright citizen?” Given the contract was practically charity, that is. 

“Should have done a background check then,” Kuroo stuck out his tongue. It was pink and moist, and Kenma shouldn’t be paying attention to it. 

“Do I have anything to worry about?” He tilted his head. 

“Nah,”

“Sure?”

“I can’t lie to you, Kenma,” 

“You you were a virgin.”

“...Do you want me to list every single partner I’ve ever had?”

He snorted. “No, I don’t want to hear it,” 

“It all started in high school, and there was this person who--”

Kenma put his hands over Kuroo’s mouth. “I said don’t want to hear it.” 

Kuroo pulled Kenma’s hands down gently, and he didn’t let go. “Well, what do you want from me? I can’t win with you,”

He thumbed over Kuroo’s fingers. He had square-cut nails, and his hand felt tender and warm. “I want breakfast.” 

“That,” he said with a smile, pulling Kenma up with him, “I can do. What will it be?” 

Kenma stood up quite easily with him, the warmth of their hands mingling with each other. “Eggs,” he told him, “scrambled.” They walked out of his room.

“Scrambled eggs it is~ Should we cook it together?”

“Why together?” 

“I recall offering to teach you how to cook last night,”

Kenma groaned. “For lunch, you said,” 

“Kenma, never say no to a learning experience.” He said, matter-of-factly, which annoyed Kenma. 

“I already know how to do it,” since he was an adult who could cook himself some eggs. 

“Think of it as a bonding moment between boyfriends, then~” He said, sounding happy about it. 

Kenma wanted to tell him to be more careful about the things he says, but he didn’t. He let him say it so casually, because if he said anything now, he could break the immersion of this little game. “‘Kay,” he mumbled instead. 

When they got downstairs, they headed right for the kitchen. Kenma sat on a stool while Kuroo worked. He cracked four large eggs and beat them into a bowl, sprinkling in a large pinch of salt, courtesy of his large hands while the pan was heating up. Once the pan was smoking, he added a square of butter. It sizzled in the pan, filling the kitchen with the delicious buttery smell. Kuroo had his eyes focused on the pan as he turned off the heat and poured the egg mixture in, licking his lips as it began to cook in the residual heat. Gently, he slid a rubber spatula through it, creating soft yellow folds until he created a yellow pile of scrambled eggs, which he topped with a few grinds of black pepper. He worked with precision and experience and Kenma could tell; every shake of his arm while he tilted the pan, every twist of his wrist guiding the finished omelette to the edge with the spatula, the smooth movements could have only come from years of practice. 

“Hey Kuro, where did you learn how to cook?” 

“Curious? Let’s see...” He was sliding the scrambled eggs onto a plate. When that was finished, he pulled a knife from the block and retrieved some chives from the counter. “I learned when I was young, from my mom,” he said, deliberately looking at Kenma while he chopped it expertly.

“Show off,” Kenma said. 

Kuroo grinned. “I had to take care of my grandparents, so when my mom wasn’t at home, I helped around a lot. That’s why I’m such a pro chef, y’know?” 

“Your sandwiches are mediocre, though,” 

“Ouch,” he sounded hurt. “Starve then, you ungrateful brat.” 

“You wouldn’t let me if I tried,”

“True, I am the nicest person in the world, after all~” 

Kenma rolled his eyes, a fond smile finding its way on his face. 

Kuroo turned his head away fast, preoccupying himself with some bread. “D’you want some toast?” He asked, ears red. 

“Sure,” he replied. 

\---  
  
After breakfast was the usual routine of hanging out on the couch. Kenma was playing games in his corner, his legs propped over of Kuroo’s knees, who had retrieved his laptop upstairs to do work, and was using the omega’s legs to support it. He asked if he minded it, and Kenma told him he didn’t, because it was warm. 

After a period of comfortable silence between them, Kuroo closed the laptop with a sigh. He pinched between his brows, a frown on his face. Kenma shifted his legs to catch his attention.

Kuroo got the hint. “Just a hang up at work. Lev messed up some reports, and the rest of the team had to cover him as usual,” 

Kenma grunted in acknowledgment. Kuroo kept going. 

“Plus, Kai might go on paternity leave too. Not that the team will die, but that leaves only Yakkun as a senior researcher. I just want to get back as soon as possible,” he sighed again, leaning into Kenma, who made room for him without taking his eyes off the screen. They were spooning on the couch now. Kuroo’s head was pressed against his waist, and he could feel the him inhaling his pheromones deeply. Kenma felt every breath over the fabric of his sweatshirt, and he shifted slightly. 

Taking notice, Kuroo stopped and moved up so he could see Kenma’s screen. “What’s this one?” 

“Hyper Light Drifter. It’s challenging,” Kenma said. 

“Nice graphics,” he said. “Why’s it difficult?” 

“Well,” Kenma paused the game. “The enemy placement, mostly. You fight them in rooms which have waves and you can’t escape until you kill them all. Some enemies have long range shots and just try to charge you. It can get hectic fast. Here,” he unpaused the game, showing him the next room in the game. Just as he said, his avatar got trapped in, and he endured a seemingly endless wave of enemies shooting and jumping for him while he had to zip around the difficult terrain, trying not to fall off edges or corner himself. A slight miscalculation where he tried to heal in an unsafe place allowed an enemy rifleman to shoot him, taking off his last health point. He made a face in annoyance. 

“See? They made sure most areas are covered.”

Kuroo nodded, watching as he slipped an arm over Kenma’s shoulder. “Then, why not just take out the shooters first?” 

Kenma explained to him why he can’t just do that. Kuroo was quick to suggest other things, and they had an actual productive discussion, exchanging strategies while Kenma tested it out. It carried on until Kenma could face the boss; a massive frog with half its face obscured by mossy growth, its neck lined with corpses of the ferret-like NPCs. 

“Holy shit, brutal,” Kuroo murmured. Not at the boss, but at Kenma, who was relentlessly slicing and shooting it, already having memorized the attack patterns. Not even a two minutes passed before Kenma killed it. 

He huffed with pride and kept playing. Kuroo watched the whole time, occasionally pointing out routes he had missed, enemies he had to look out for, and boss tendencies. He had to admit, playing like this wasn’t bad. Kuroo seemed genuinely engaged with the game and he wasn’t overbearing with the comments, either. Sometimes he asked questions, but they were simple enough and never during difficult fights. Kenma wondered if this was part of their little game of pretend. He paused the game and turned to Kuroo, making eye contact. Their faces were close, and like they had just caught each other staring, they both glanced away. 

“Kuro, aren’t you getting tired of watching me?” His voice was quiet, speaking to the Switch more than Kuroo. 

“Nah,” he said. “It’s fun and interesting,” 

“It’s just a game,” 

“Then why are _you_ so into it?” 

He hesitated. “...Same reason you are, I guess.”

“So why’s it weird if I’m into it?” 

“Because… you’re you.” He stated simply. 

“We’re different, maybe, but I could say the same when we were watching volleyball. You were really into it, I didn’t expect that from a guy like you,” he smiled, poking the omega’s forehead. “It’s best not to think too hard about this. Just enjoy it!”

Would that be right? 

“Just enjoy it…” he repeated to himself. 

For a second, he thought if he removed the pretense of a spell, there wouldn’t be any spell to be broken in the first place. Could he do that? They already had excuses for acting like a couple; going through the motions so smoothly, so why should they suddenly act any different? 

_‘Just enjoy it,’_ said a voice in his head. _‘This is as good as it gets.’_ And Kenma believed that. 

“I guess you’re right,” he said, after a brief pause. 

Kuroo grinned at him. “Well, keep playing then! I wanna see you get to the crow boss,”

“‘Kay,” Kenma said, starting up the game. 

After two hours of playing, Kuroo insisted Kenma rest his eyes. He disagreed, especially since he had just begun the third area of the game. “After I die,” he said. 

“Kenma…”

“After I die,” he insisted. 

Kuroo put his hand over the screen, and Kenma jolted. The sudden obstruction caused him to frantically button mash, especially since he had been surrounded by enemies. Sadly, his avatar died, and he glared at the alpha, who easily plucked the Switch out of his hands. 

Kenma glared at him. “Hey!” 

“Now will you rest your eyes?” Kuroo held it away from him, his fingers all over the screen, smudging it. 

Kenma scowled and reached for it, but Kuroo raised his arm, easily keeping it away. “Rest your eyes,” he said. 

“Give it back,” Kenma growled. “That death wasn’t intentional!”

“Oya oya? You look so scary right now, Kenma~ Why’re you so mad? It’s just a game!” He teased, a mischievous grin all over his face. 

He scoffed, lifting his arms this time to retrieve the handheld. “That’s not the point, you sabotaged me! That wasn’t fair!”

The alpha tutted, shaking his head. “Kenma, Kenma, I’m trying to stop you from ruining your eyes! This is for your own good, you know?”

Kenma rolled his eyes. “What are you, my dad?” 

“Wanna call me daddy instea--” 

Kenma slapped him in the cheek, utterly disgusted. “Do not talk to me,” he said, almost threateningly. 

Kuroo held his cheek, staring at him, his mouth half-agape in shock. “Ow? How could you?! I’ll drop this,” he dangled the Switch over the edge of the couch. 

“You were being gross,” he scowled once again, and they fought over the Switch, with Kenma trying to take it back, but Kuroo constantly holding it away with his annoyingly long arms. Without thinking, Kenma got up and turned to face him, swinging his leg over Kuroo’s. He was on his knees, over the alpha’s long legs, which provided him the height needed to snag the Switch out of his grasp. Kenma sank down, effectively straddling Kuroo’s thighs while he checked on screen. 

“Ken--” Kuroo bit his lip. 

“Shut up, Kuro,” he grunted, lifting the hem of his sweatshirt, wiping the screen. “It’s all dirty now, because of you,” 

He heard him gulp audibly. “Oi,” Kuroo put his hands on Kenma’s shoulders. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. They held each other’s gaze for a long time, until Kenma was undeniably aware of what he had just done, their position, his thighs gripping Kuroo’s hips. Heat increased between the contact of their skin, a jolt of electricity running its course through their bodies. The chocolate smell made itself present, now that they were so close their chests were only inches apart. In response to his pheromones, Kenma had released his as well, sharp mint mingling, complimenting the bitter chocolate. Together it smelled intoxifying, drawing out a sense of hunger from Kenma. His throat dried up, and he wanted it quenched. Not for food. Not for drink. For _him._

A reaction like this had never happened before. He swallowed hard, unable to tear his eyes from the alpha, let alone move from his lap. He didn’t know what to do. His body was screaming at him to close the distance between them, but he held onto the Switch for dear life. If he played his part now, would that be weird? If, he went ahead and touched Kuroo, would he respond? The possibility of it left him frozen despite the warmth. 

Kuroo’s face was turning pink in front of him, no doubt captive by the same condition. He watched closely as the alpha’s hands reached for the skin underneath his sweatshirt which had been exposed when he wiped the handheld. Kenma froze, thinking this was it, but instead he reached for his wrist, and gently put it down, covering him up. Kuroo let out a breath like it was the most difficult decision he had ever made. The alpha hissed through his teeth. “...Have a bit more self-awareness, wouldja?” Kuroo told him, pinching the spot between his brows. “The more skin exposed, the more surface area for pheromones to affect,” he warned.

Kenma nodded. He knew that already.

Then, he leaned close. He still smelled like chocolate, and he could feel his breath against his skin. Why it was necessary to do that, Kenma couldn't fathom why. Kuroo knew it was All the more ironic it was, when the alpha spoke, their noses nearly touching. A new tension filled the small gap between them, beckoning. “This is dangerous. You should get off me right now, I don't want to lose your trust.” 

Kenma broke eye contact. “Why would that be important?” He knew what Kuroo can do right now.

“Kenma, treat yourself better, will you?” He said sincerely.

“You do a better job of it than I can,” he mumbled.

“Sure about that? This is pretty selfish of me,”

He didn't know what Kuroo meant by that. “...how, exactly?”

Finally, he drew his head back, head turned away from the omega. A faint blush spread across his face. “I can't say. It's embarrassing.” 

Kenma tilted his head, trying to meet his gaze. “Even for you?” 

“What's that supposed to mean…?” 

Kenma stared at him. “I mean, you say embarrassing things a lot. What makes this any different?” 

“I don't say embarrassing things!” Kuroo was turning redder. “It's just hard to say because… can you please stop staring?”

Deliberately, Kenma kept staring. “No,” he said, “not until you say what it is.” 

“You're being so difficult right now, you know?” 

“I thought… you can tell me things,” he said. They had just spent a whole night talking, and now he suddenly can't? It was unfair, and Kenma admitted it stung a bit. 

“Don't use that against me,” he groaned. “I… can't you see what I'm trying to get at, here? Why'd you wanna know so bad, anyway?” 

Now Kenma was at a loss for words. He didn't know why it was so important he knew. But he had an excuse. “Is it weird for me to want to?”

“I… honestly don't know,” he admitted. “You're a reserved guy, and when I think I have you figured out, you go do things like this,” 

He thought that was stupid. It's not like he was some scientific constant. “You said,” Kenma touched his chest and Kuroo jolted. “To just enjoy it. Don't think too hard. Right?”

“R...right,” the alpha mumbled. “C-can you get off me, now?” 

“Not until you tell me,”

He threw his hands up. “Come on, don't be difficult! It's just,” he made vague gestures, “not easy for me to express my thoughts like this right now!”

He was perplexed. There Kuroo was, the much more socially competent of the two unable to express himself. “Can't you say it in some other way, Kuro?” 

He rubbed his chin in contemplation. “Then,” He pulled in close again, their noses definitely touching now. Kuroo's hazel eyes stared deeply into his, and Kenma stared right back, anticipating. “Can I kiss you?”

Kenma froze. Kuroo took that for an answer.

“I take it back,” he said, sounding regretful. “You don't want--” 

Before he could finish, Kenma gripped his arm. “Don't just decide for me.” He muttered, lowering his head against the alpha's chest. A furious blush spread through his face. He wished he got off Kuroo's lap minutes ago. His forehead could feel just how fast the alpha's heart was racing.

“D’you mean you actually want to?” 

“N-not now,” Kenma grunted, pulling away to breathe. Kuroo's face was so red, and he covered up his own with a sleeve. “I'm not…”

Kuroo blinked, then relaxed with a smile at him. He brushed his hand through his hair, before ruffling Kenma's. “S'fine, I get it. I'm just glad you don't think I'm gross, at least. He laughed like there was nothing between them. Physically, there wasn't. The two were now chest to chest, Kenma still on his lap, burning. 

“Why?” The omega spoke suddenly. “Why would you even want to, anyway?”

The alpha looked like he was considering something in his mind. Thinking. “Because… we're boyfriends, right?”

 _'Don't think too hard about it,'_ his words implied. 

Kenma grunted in agreement. 

_‘Just enjoy it.’_

\---

They found it acceptable to stay away from each other after that. Kuroo sat at the far end of the L, and Kenma in his corner. They both thought the amount of pheromones they shared was enough for today. The weird tension remained in the air, and Kenma found that he couldn’t concentrate on his games. He was too aware of Kuroo’s presence just three feet away from him. Ever since he brought up the topic of kissing, it was all he could think about. He wasn’t even sure he remembered the last time he kissed anyone seriously. There was Shouyou, but that was when they were in high school, that hardly counted. Ah, he also kissed Akaashi that one time they tried dating, but it ended up awkward to the point they didn’t talk for a week. 

Well this was depressing. 

Not only was his experience absolutely minimal, but if he _did_ kiss Kuroo he had to worry about messing up. Kuroo probably had a lot of experience, seeing as he’s an alpha, was of above average intelligence, and he looked… _not_ bad. There, he admitted it. 

Kuroo got up from the couch. Kenma watched him, using using the fringes of his hair as cover. He went upstairs, and Kenma felt like he had to follow. He stayed put however, putting down the handheld with a heavy sigh. 

He never expected to be faced with a dilemma like this. Weeks ago, his biggest concern was getting home from work without getting assaulted. Now, he had to think about how his pretend-boyfriend wanted to kiss him. He should have expected it, playing a game like this. Of course Kuroo would want to ‘level up’ their relationship. The alpha had his needs, after all. 

At least he had the decency to ask. He was just that type of guy, and it could have gotten worse when he was sitting on his lap like that. Honestly, he didn’t want to think about it; his face burned with shame just considering how much time he spent on that compromising position. 

It was a good thing Kuroo didn’t do anything, nor did he try to coax him into kissing. But if he did? Say, for example, if they had kissed. What would it have been like? Would it have been forceful? Would Kuroo mash their lips together? He’d seen it happen during insufferable points in movies and shows, when the two protagonists would practically smash faces and slurp at each other’s faces in a fit of passion. He grimaced at the thought. Again, it was sad how his examples weren’t drawn from his own experiences. 

Though from what he had observed, Kuroo has been very mindful of him so far. To the point that the incident with him and his heat was just a faint memory. (It had been what, 3 weeks?) He doubt Kuroo would try and eat his face, assuming a kiss _would_ happen. 

Would it be a deep kiss, then? Kenma knew he’d recoil in in disgust if another person’s tongue found its way in his mouth. In case he couldn’t, there was no problem trying to bite it, if he were being honest. Wracking his head for solutions when it came to these types of scenarios was a pain. It made the hypothetical kiss all the more intimidating. It had no reason to be, since… Since, knowing Kuroo, he’d probably be gentle. 

He touched a finger to his lips. Gentle and warm. He lowered his hand, burying his face in his knees. Right now, images were flooding his head. All of which fabricated by none other than himself; self-serving fantasies that didn’t help him at all. 

Why was imagining Kuroo kissing him somehow worse than his heat-fantasy? He hugged his knees, shifting uncomfortably. 

_‘This is by far… the worst,’_ he thought, rubbing his face on his knees to get rid of the blushing. _‘This is the worst.’_

Just then his phone began to buzz with texts. He would have ignored it, but then it began to vibrate as a barrage of texts flooded his inbox. He pulled it out of his pocket, alarmed. 

It was from Akaashi. All of it. 

Akaashi: _I did it_  
_I told him_  
_I think Im getting a headcahce_  
_he looked so happy_  
_he hugged me and then he kissed me in hsi offce and he was unexpectedly understanding somehow I completelt didn’t expect that but what if hes just mad and trying to keep it oh my god_  
_I cant breathe_

So the texts continued. Akaashi was in a panic, texting faster than Kenma could read, that he had to hold onto the screen to prevent the messages from flying up. From short phrases to full paragraphs, Kenma read through his friend’s breakdown, completely at a loss over what to say. No doubt Akaashi had holed himself up somewhere trying not to asphyxiate. He wanted to say something, but he had to wait. Eventually, Akaashi’s texts had died down, and he seemed to have collected himself, seeing the typos and errors usually nonexistent from the beta. 

Kozume: _Congrats_

Fuck. Right after the ‘I just cried in the janitor’s closet but I’m fine now’ text, too. He immediately typed a follow-up. 

Kozume: _I mean like_  
_For being able to say it to bokuto_  
_Did I push you to do it_  
_If so im sorry_  
_I hope youre okay now_  
Akaashi: _Yes I am. I’m so sorry you had to experience that. I lost my composure for a minute, Kenma._  
_‘The longest minute of Akaashi’s life, for sure.’_

Kozume: _Its okay i think anyone would have in your situation_  
_Sorry I wasnt much help_  
_I could only read_  
_But Im glad he accepted it_

Akaashi: _Please don’t worry about it. You have your own ways of supporting me, Kenma._  
_Thank you._

Kozume: _Its fine_  
_Are you happy_

Akaashi was typing for a while. 

Akaashi: _Perhaps it’s just my age, but I feel relieved more than anything. However, I am… very hopeful. Positively._

 _‘That’s happiness, you idiot,’_ Kenma thought fondly. 

Kozume: _Then thats good_  
_Good for you Akaashi_

Akaashi: _Thank you. Now, how are you?_

Kozume: _Im fine_

He replied a tad bit too quickly than usual. He hoped Akaashi wouldn’t catch it. His bubble was typing, and Kenma stared intently at it. 

Akaashi: _I see. That’s good, Kenma._

He sighed with relief. After a few more minutes of catching up, Akaashi had to return to work. Once gone, Kenma stared at his phone screen until his screen went dark. Staring back was a tired omega, too lazy to bleach his roots, a pudding-head that oddly matched his sharp-looking face. He put the phone away. 

_‘Kuroo thinks this is cute,’_ he slumped over the couch, sighing. _‘What an idiot. He has bad taste._

Oddly enough, he recalled Kuroo telling him to start treating himself better. Followed by Akaashi’s text from many nights ago, hoping he’d find his ‘happiness’, if such a thing were possible. Not just because he was an omega, but also because of who he was as a person. It was all too much to think about, let alone to act on. To him, the world was moving fast; Akaashi had a relationship, Shouyou seemed to find a place to fit in, and here he was, rotting on a couch and thinking too hard about things as usual. Even if it was a nice couch in a nice house, would _he_ change? 

He couldn’t answer that question for himself when Kuroo’s footsteps alerted him. He sat up straighter, glancing at everywhere else but him. It seemed as though Kuroo had other plans when he sat down next to Kenma, touching bodies once more. He hated how it didn’t feel awkward, and how he wanted to lean closer. 

“Did’ja hear?” He asked. “Akaashi did it. He did the thing,” 

Kenma nodded. “He just texted me, actually.”

“Yesss~” He hissed, pumping a fist. “Bokuto called me upstairs. He was practically freaking out, I could barely understand whatever the hell he was saying. I legitimately thought he was just saying stuff to mess with me,” Kuroo chuckled.

Funny how Akaashi and Bokuto worked. Kenma chuckled at that. 

“Well anyways, he wants to celebrate,” Kuroo said. “We’re going drinking tonight, just some bar-and-grill at the edge of the city. Akaashi knows that place,” he added. 

“...Do we have to?” Kenma tilted his head. The idea of him being surrounded by drunk people, and two alphas made him uneasy. “I mean, Akaashi told me he wanted the relationship to be private first,” 

“That’s why only the four of us are going. I’m sure Akaashi knows Bo tells me everything, and Bo knows you and Akaashi are super close. Plus if we go as a group, in the unlikely case somebody we know _does_ see us, it would be less suspicious.” 

He still made a face. “I don’t know,” he said again. “I don’t drink,” he admitted. If anything had the potential to make him vulnerable, he’d avoid it like the plague. 

Kuroo was unfazed. “That’s fine by me, you can just get juice or something,” he said. 

“That’s… that’s not the point, Kuro. I just…” He scratched his head, trying to explain himself. “It’s-- I… Because you two are…”

“Oh,” Kuroo rubbed his chin. “Even if Akaashi’s there?”

“He didn’t tell me he’d be there,”

“He will, since Bokuto said he would,” Kuroo insisted. 

The omega knew his friends can’t resist Bokuto for long. No doubt he’d receive a text about it later. “...What if you get drunk?” He didn’t want to be stranded by the edge of town with a drunk Kuroo, alpha or not. Especially since he was the ride home. 

Kuroo pat his stomach confidently. “I’m actually a pretty good drinker, if I say so myself. Much better than Bo, at least. I pace myself, y’know?” 

Kenma hummed, not quite believing him. 

“Hey,” Kuroo pat his arm. “Trust me. Why don’t we make a bet, then? If I get drunk, and by that I mean get a hangover the next morning, then… I’ll get you anything you want,” he said. 

“What happens if I lose?”

“Hm? Well, nothing I guess,” Kuroo shrugged. 

“Then, that’s not a bet. That’s just a punishment.” 

“Huh? You actually want consequences?” He sounded shocked. 

“Mmm.” Kenma nodded. Not much in betting in game if he didn’t lose anything.

“Let’s make it equal then. If I get drunk, I do _one_ thing you want. Be reasonable here, okay? And if I’m sober, then you do something _I_ want. Deal?” He extended a hand. 

“Deal.” Kenma said, shaking it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that finishes up the 3rd portion of development! The next chapter will be the 2nd Akaahi intermission! Firstly, I'd like to apologize for the week-long delay. It's midterms season, so it seems I can't quite return to the usual schedule :( Rest assured, I have no intention of dropping this fic, so just bear with the delays for a bit! Btw, If you guys want to, can you tell me if I've been writing them too OOC? It would really help me if I should keep going with this direction, or not. 
> 
> As usual, thank you for the support you guys :D
> 
> Feel free to follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/danmujiji) for kuroken/hq!! content! Here, you can get some approximation on the fic's progress, as well as other kuroken hcs/aus in general! You can even send me fanart, I'd literally die for you if you do that ;^;


	18. Intermission: Akaashi - II

“‘Kaashi…” Bokuto groaned, slapping his hands to his face. He sighed deeply, almost a wheeze, his shoulders sagging in his wrinkled suit. “I don’t wanna do this anymore…”

This time, Akaashi didn’t blame him for thinking that way. From early morning since yesterday they had been bombarded with a sudden _actual_ increase in work. Presentations to the authorities, dealing with reputable chemical manufacturers, consulting other marketing teams, pulling in investors, and scouting other faces they could put on the product. He was in no better shape, having to accompany Bokuto through all of these, the barest amount of sleep somehow managing to fuel him throughout.

“I want to go home! I don’t want to work! Akaashi, drive me home pleaaaase? I just wanna nap,” he groaned, pulling down his face. “I just wanna nap. Forever.”

“Mr. Bokuto, we still have a meeting at 6PM,” he exhaled, gesturing at his office. 

“What time is it even?”

Akaashi checked his watch. He rubbed his eyes and blinked hard twice to read it properly. “5:03PM, sir.” 

Bokuto did the math on his fingers. “In… In an hour?!”

He was almost compelled to count along with him. One sheep. Two sheep-- 

“I’m afraid so.”

Bokuto groaned again, leaning against the doors of his office, fumbling with the handles, before letting gravity to push his body through. Akaashi caught him by the back of his blazer, letting out a breath of relief as the alpha righted himself. 

Dragging his feet to the couch, Bokuto flung a folder at the coffee table sending some papers fluttering while he threw himself over the cushions with a loud thump. 

Akaashi trudged to where the papers had flown, kneeling on the carpet to pick them up one by one. He reached slowly for every leaf, barely comprehending the content before tapping the pile over the glass. 

Bokuto’s groan was muffled as he shoved his face down on the couch. He kicked, a shoe flying off his foot which were hanging over the edge of the seat. _“Crncel thr mhrrtng,”_ he grumbled. 

“Pardon?” 

Bokuto whipped his head up, looking dead-set on something. “Cancel the meeting! I’m tired!”

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Once opening them, he exhaled and reached over to pat Bokuto on the head. His touch was gentle; trying not to disturb the hairstyle. Not that it would matter when the rest of his tweed suit was so unkempt from all his moving around, but that, at the very least, would remain neat. 

“There there,” he said, stiffly. “I know you’re tired Mr. Bokuto, but this is the last we have for today. There are no further assignments for tonight, I promise.” 

The alpha had lowered his head, accepting of the rub. Akaashi liked this part of him, among many things. Bokuto could be surprisingly compliant at times. Then he realized what he was doing, caught off-guard by a lack of sleep. Just as he pulled his hand away, Bokuto darted his lips to his wrist. 

It took a second to process. 

“...Huh?” His hand was still stuck in the air, unmoving. He pulled his wrist back, glancing at it like it suddenly didn’t belong to him. “Did you just… No,” he rubbed his eyes again. It must have been the lack of sleep making him imagine such things. 

“Akaashi!” Bokuto whined again. His face was pink. “I-I kissed you!” 

In an instant their foreheads were touching, breaths mingled as they Bokuto held his gaze. Heated and intense, as if trying to capture all of Akaashi in a single moment. Bokuto cupped his cheek, his warm fingers brushing against his skin, turning Akaashi’s throat dry. He swallowed.

Bokuto tore his gaze away with a loud and frustrated groan. “Ah, shit! Sorry, sorry! Let’s just-- Go get you a coffee, or something! Onigiri!”

Akaashi relaxed and touched his own face, feeling it unbearably hot. He had been tired, but that-- that removed the heaviness in his eyelids as his eyes flashed open; the embarrassed Bokuto in sharp, crystal-clear focus. “Just… what were you trying to do, Mr. Bokuto?” He asked, already having hints of the answer in his head.

“I was just trying to wake you up, I guess…” He replied sheepishly, twiddling with his thumbs like a middle-schooler caught off-guard by a teacher. “Did it work?” 

Akaashi chuckled soundlessly. “A little, surprisingly.” Then he remembered his place. He hesitated before bringing it up. “But please don’t do that here, it’s still…”

“I know, I know,” Bokuto sighed loudly, lowering his face to the cushions once more.

His show of patience stung Akaashi, who realized his own selfishness. He had promised his answer in a matter of days and yet it has been a little over a week now. He _knew_ what he had to say, but he was… too scared and used the cover of work until work actually engulfed the two, robbing them of precious time alone to talk. Seriously talk. 

He glanced at his watch. It was 5:08PM and it was worth a shot. 

Straightening his posture, he coughed gently to grab Bokuto’s attention, who had been attempting to kick his other shoe off his foot for the past few moments. 

“Mr. Bokuto,” he said. No response. 

Akaashi knew that he was pouting. He called him again, eventually relenting to use his trump card when his attempts failed. 

_“Koutarou.”_ It came out softer than he wished. 

Bokuto raised his head in an instant. “W-what? What is it, Keiji? Tell me!” He looked like a puppy expecting treats.

“I… I’ve been selfish,” Akaashi admitted, the structured order of words in his head jumbled up by the simplicity of Bokuto at that moment. He called him _Keiji._ How he could summon his passion for him, a beta, but not for pressing matters like work always surprised him. 

“How?” Bokuto tilted his head, perplexed.

“I know what it is,” he paused, feeling his throat close up, “t-that I have to say to you, but,” he exhaled, pulling at his collar, “I am _afraid._ ”

Bokuto pulled himself up, then knelt on the carpet before him. “Keiji, it’s okay. You can take your time! Um, I can wait-- I mean, I know I look like I can’t but--”

Akaashi raised a finger to his lips, silencing him. “Stop. I owe you this, at least.” He retreated his finger, the tip lightly grazing Bokuto’s lower lip. Bokuto shivered, sitting ramrod straight.

“Ye-yes.” The alpha breathed out. 

 

“I,” Akaashi inhaled deeply, trying to restructure his words. “Already knew what I wanted to tell you. I have given it much thought and consideration, and I was afraid because the possibility of an us felt… No, it _is_ overwhelming, to say in the least. I tried to avoid what I had to do. Koutarou, I know it was difficult for you. You have been waiting impatiently,”  
Bokuto coughed. 

“But for now, and hopefully for a long time,” he bowed, his head nearly touching the carpet. “Please take care of me.” 

And now, he waited for the inevitable loud reaction; whatever exclamation or cheer Bokuto was known for. He waited for him to get up and jump and shout, even bounce all over the couch. He wanted affirmation that Bokuto had somehow not lost his interest, because was just that type of guy who never kept still, ricocheting here, there, and everywhere. That is how Akaashi knows and likes him for now. 

Instead, silence. Silence heavy like a ball of lead dropped in the pit of his gut. 

It took all it could for Akaashi to bring his head up and face him. 

Bokuto was uncharacteristically still. His pupils were dilated, and his chest was quivering. 

Akaashi scrambled for him, waving his hand in front of his face. “Mr. Boku-- Koutarou, are you okay?” 

Strong arms crushed him into a bear hug. Bokuto buried his face into Akaashi’s chest, and he could feel the warmth radiating off his face, even through the fabric of his suit. This close, the woody scent of the forest, all its mossy rocks and crawling mists caught Akaashi’s nose, staggering. He could not be, in any way, affected by the it.

But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy it. 

He raised his arms as much as he could trying to hug back. 

“Keiji,” Bokuto mumbled in his chest. “Keiji, Keiji, Keiji!”

Akaashi could only hope that Bokuto couldn’t hear the pounding of his own heart. Once Bokuto’s grip loosened enough, he could breathe again, and pull his arms up to Bokuto’s shoulders. “W-was that sufficient?” He asked, nervous. 

“Sufficient? Keiji, that was-- that was perfect! I’m so… I’m so happy!” Once again, he buried his face into the beta’s chest, inhaling deeply. Akaashi wondered why he did that, when he was scentless. Bokuto had always been strange, though, so he allowed it for a while. “Oh my god, you said yes! Yes!”

“Ye-yes, however...” Akaashi repeated, tapping his shoulder to be released. “I have some rules as well, if you wouldn’t mind.” 

Bokuto only loosened his hold after Akaashi pushed against him. 

“Sorry, sorry! Anything for you, Keiji!” He said with a wide grin. It was blinding. 

He had to take a moment to collect himself again. “Well, first, there’s the issue of our privacy. I want this-- _us,_ to be as discreet as possible for now. Do you understand?” 

The alpha perked up at the mention of ‘us’ and Akaashi had a feeling it was the only part of the sentence he heard. “Do you understand?” he repeated. “This means at work, we shall refer to ourselves formally, Mr. Bokuto.” 

Bokuto deflated. “Eh? But… But I want to call you Keiji! Can’t I just… call you A-kei-ji?” 

Akaashi sighed. He did not appreciate the contraction of his name, no. “You may not. Please, do _not._ ”

“Aw! Please forgive me~” Bokuto moved to hug him again, and Akaashi stopped him with a hand. 

“The first also covers personal contact. No more than necessary.”

“No more than necessary,” Bokuto repeated after him. “Got it.”

 _‘Easier said than done for you,’_ Akaashi thought. “Please understand the risks we could be facing here. Only close friends can know. For you, it’s Mr. Kuroo, Mr. Oikawa, and Mr. Iwaizumi. I suppose it’s only Kozume for me,” 

Bokuto nodded. 

He continued. “Secondly, we must take it slow. I… am not very familiar with these… arrangements, so I am placing a lot of faith on you.” 

Bokuto gasped. “Am I your first--”

“No, of course not.”

Bokuto pouted. 

“Well, the first alpha, if that pleases you,”

And he perked up again. Bokuto was better at… learning things when he was happy.

“Third, is work. Work is work. It comes first. Work hours are work hours. Are we clear?” 

“This is a lot of rules…”

“Please,” he said, almost pleading. 

“Don’t worry Ke-- Akaashi. I can do it if I try!” 

His confidence was reassuring. Akaashi smiled a bit. “Thank you. It means a lot to me. I.. I really want to make this work with you. Us.”

“I do too! I really can’t-- I mean, I don’t know as many fancy words to describe right now, but Akaashi, can… Can I kiss you? Just once? Please?” He pleaded, pushing out his bottom lip. 

“...I just said we should take it slow.”

“Eh? It is? I thought kissing was just. Y’know, casual?”

_‘What.’_

Akaashi stared at him. “Very well,” he held out a hand. By reflex, Bokuto put his hand on it, looking confused but expectant as usual. Akaashi lifted his hand to his lips, and kissed it. “There,” he said, shooting upright and brisk-walking to the exit. Just as he pushed the doors aside, he heard Bokuto screaming his name. He passed by Komi in the hallways, who asked him if he should check up on Bokuto.

“He’s fine,” Akaashi snapped, hurrying out of his way. “Do _not_ enter that room.”

He ducked into one of the nearest empty rooms he could find: the janitor’s closet. It was a narrow room lined with tall shelves containing bottles of chemicals, dirty rags, and other cleaning materials and equipment. He locked the door, and leaned against it, hissing loudly as he sank down. Great pressure squeezed his chest where undoing his tie wouldn’t quite fix it, and he choked out a sob, trembling like a cowering dog by the door. What he had just done was allow himself to plummet into an unknown abyss armed with nothing but hope he’d make it down. 

The possibilities of failure, ruin, and despair crashed down on him like a wave. What if people find out? Komi-- could he be suspicious because of earlier? He slapped his forehead. The CCTVs! How could he have forgotten? He’d have to take a trip to security, that is, if the footage of their physical contact hadn’t been leaked yet. 

Akaashi slapped his cheeks and drew in a shaky breath. 

He was overreacting. He had to settle down. Wipe his tears. As much as possible. Take deep breaths. Assess the situation. Make a verdict. The answer?

Kenma. He had to text Kenma. 

Akaashi fumbled with the phone, messing up his own password multiple times. Once unlocked, he began rapid-firing messages at his friend. He lost the formalities in his speech, opting to get everything out as much as possible, typing through tears and holding back any sobs. After a string of messages, Akaashi strained his swollen eyes to read, all that came was a single word: 

Kozume: _Congrats_

It was so very unexpected, and yet expected of Kenma. Akaashi snorted. Then his shoulders began to shake as the laughter overtook him. He was in the midst of a panic attack and Kenma just congratulated him. He snorted, slapping a hand over his mouth. God, was he going crazy? Laughing at a friend’s text in the janitor’s office after suffering a breakdown from entering into a relationship with his boss. The series of events could not have been more hilarious-- no, _outlandish_ to him, who would have never expected this when he joined the company years ago. 

Kenma followed up his text with a string of explanations of his own, but by then Akaashi had calmed down significantly, his sleeve damp but his face dry. He was fine at last, then he went to apologize for the outburst. Kenma, when he wanted to be, was quite understanding and Akaashi felt as if he could breathe once more. 

Akaashi: _Thank you._

Kozume: _Its fine_  
_Are you happy_

The question struck him as odd at first, then he recalled their conversation earlier, about seeking happiness. Happiness _he_ allegedly deserves. Was he happy?

He held down the ‘H’ key, preoccupied with the question. It allowed all his doubts and fears to rear their ugly heads once again. Was he happy about it? Did he make the right decision? Did Bokuto make the right decision, choosing _him?_ He was just a beta, easily replaceable, just another face in the crowd meant to raise the alphas to their pedestal. He knew he couldn’t be anything else, and yet Bokuto somehow, wanted him. But that was also a cause of worry; with his track record for capricious decisions, Akaashi wondered himself if he could sustain Bokuto’s attention. Just how long did he have until the alpha would get bored and leave? What could he possibly do when that happens? What was there to him? 

A breath was caught in his throat. 

Briefly the memory of Bokuto’s half-drunk and half-naked confession surfaced. Bokuto held him in surprisingly high esteem, praising him for all his hard work, initiative, support, and even considered him moderately attractive. He never considered then just how often Bokuto was watching him, how they were both watching each other in different ways. 

So then, if he was worthy of being watched by Bokuto of all people, even if for a moment, and this moment could potentially lead to the happiest moments of his life, shouldn’t he, as Kenma put it, try to seek his happiness? He sure hoped he could. In the truest sense, it was all Akaashi had coming into this, and nothing else. Relinquishing the responsibility of thinking about all that to hope: hope it would work out. Hope he could make it through, with or without Bokuto in the end. He cleared the wall of ‘H’s’ and replied. 

Akaashi: _Perhaps it’s just my age, but I feel relieved more than anything. However, I am… very hopeful. Positively._

Kenma told him it was good, ‘good for him,’ and he agreed that it was indeed a good change. So he asked Kenma how he was doing, and Kenma replied rather fast, which he found odd, seeing as Kenma took his time with most things. Now he was worried about something else, because his friend wasn’t the type to talk about things spontaneously; you had to ask or even pry the information out of him. But sometimes, attempts to do so would only cause him to retreat further. Still, he tried prodding further, asking innocuous questions such as what was he doing, and how’s his day been, so and so. According to Kenma, the day nothing short of ordinary; he and Kuroo had been proxying (each time he says this, Akaashi just assumes they hang out in the same room) and they’re getting along alright, but Kuroo could be a bit of a nag. 

Kozume: _He tried explaining pickles to me_  
_then nagged until i ate some_  
_they were ok i guess_

Akaashi chuckled at this, to see Kenma openly admit eating a vegetable. He about to type a reply when a notification popped on his phone. His eyes widened in alarm. The meeting was in 20 minutes. Hastily, he sent Kenma a goodbye and told him he had work to do, and stood up, dusting himself while shoving the phone in his pocket, twisting the doorknob and walking back to the office. 

Akaashi hadn’t realized how much time he spent cooped up in the janitor’s closet. He sniffed his sleeve, worried he might smell musty or chemical before hurrying back to Bokuto’s office. He pushed the doors open, calling out to Bokuto.

“Mr. Bokuto! The meeting with the Miya twins is in 20 minutes!”

“What?! Wait, shit--” Bokuto got up from his lounging position on the couch, turning in circles to look for his shoes. Once found, he forced his feet into the pair, stomping on the carpet. 

He looked like a mess; his blazer was had gone all wrinkled from laying all over the couch, and his dress shirt was partly untucked. In his absence, Bokuto had also loosened his tie and unbuttoned two buttons off the top of his shirt. 

“I… I was gone for twenty minutes, sir.” Akaashi stared at him in disbelief. “Why did you do this?” 

Bokuto looked away. “A-anyways Akaashi, can you help fix it?” 

He sighed. “Very well,” he said, walking over to Bokuto’s desk and pulling a handheld clothes steamer. “Please tuck your shirt in,” he instructed while plugging the appliance. 

His boss did as he was instructed, before walking over to him, arms spread wide like he was expecting a hug. And he was, from the eager look on his face. Akaashi sent a puff of lukewarm steam at his face to say ‘we are at work right now’. 

Bokuto whined. 

He ignored it, as usual with a roll of his eyes but fighting back a smile. He still had his restraints, though it he had to admit, it was very cute. “It appears the steamer still works. Please remove your blazer.”

“You can just steam me like this, right?”

“No. It’s very hot water. Please take it off,”

“I’ll take off more than that,” Bokuto winked, and Akaashi returned a deadpan stare until he backed off. Ignoring Bokuto was more effective than a scolding sometimes. But he had to put his foot down. 

“Please remember the rules I set, Mr. Bokuto. For us.” 

Bokuto stopped immediately, and nodded. He coughed politely, and slid off his blazer, laying it over his desk like he usually does. “Sorry, ‘Kaashi,” 

“It’s alright, sir.” As long as Bokuto was willing to listen. 

When he began steaming the blazer, the alpha suddenly piped up. 

“Oh, right! Akaashi, I told Kuroo about us,” he said. “Oikawa too, but he hasn’t seen it yet. Is… is that okay? That’s okay, right?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “I told Kozume as well,”

“Weeeell,” Bokuto started scratching his neck, awkwardly glancing around. “I miiiight have suggested we… Celebrate. 8PM at that bar-and-grill we went to a while back, you know the one! They have yakiniku grills there!” 

He raised the steamer away from the fabric. “Um,”

“It totally just slipped out! And he said he’d ask Kenma if he wanted to go!”

Akaashi blinked. He turned off the steamer and began straightening out the wrinkles, contemplating silently. 

“...Are you mad?” Bokuto moved his head, attempting to discern his expression. 

“Actually,” he said, lifting the blazer to eye level, “I don’t think it’s a bad idea.” It has been a while since he saw Kenma. It was an opportunity to talk face to face. 

Bokuto hissed with relief, slumping over the desk. “Oh thank god, I told Kuroo you’d be there,” 

“Please stand up properly, we only have so much time before the meeting, sir. Here,” he said, coming behind him and raising the blazer to Bokuto’s shoulders. 

Though Akaashi said they had to keep their distance at work, viewing Bokuto’s back from the new context was… something. It’s not as if fixing his blazer was something rare (it was more commonplace than people would think) but he never quite noticed just how broad exactly his shoulders were, stretching the fabric of his dress shirt taut while he slipped on the sleeves of the blazer. Akaashi bet if he pressed his arms close to his sides, he could stay behind Bokuto unnoticed. 

“Akaashi, how much time we have left?”

“Roughly 9 minutes left, sir. Please turn around,” he said. Bokuto did, and so very innocuously did Akaashi button his shirt, his knuckles brushing against his chest briefly. Bokuto felt warm, and Akaashi smelled the forest though the reason was unclear at first, he glanced up and saw Bokuto’s chin pointed high up the ceiling, his neck red. He was tapping his foot impatiently, whereas Akaashi was pressured to redo his tie, fingers working quickly as possible while minimizing contact with Bokuto and in his rush to distance the rising temperature in their bodies pulled the tie a bit too tightly, causing Bokuto to gasp loudly. 

Akaashi practically jumped back in alarm. “Oh, I-I’m sorry sir, should I--”

Bokuto raised hand, loosening it just enough. “Nope! Nope, nope, nope! That’s super okay, don’t… j-just…”

They were both at a loss for words and merely settled with nodding. A mutual agreement was made: _That was dangerous. Let’s not do that again._

Now a brief moment of awkwardness hung in the air. He could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his skull, the rush of heat to his face, the dryness in his throat, and the meager meter between them, the space. Bokuto gulped. Akaashi coughed. Bokuto shifted his feet. His eyes, Akaashi couldn’t meet. 

Jolting them back to business was Akaashi’s phone mercifully notifying them of the meeting. 

“5 minutes left, Mr. Bokuto,” Akaashi said, gesturing at the door. 

Bokuto tugged his blazer straight. “Alright Akaashi, let’s do this.”

\---

The meeting ended well. Akaashi was in charge of supplying physical reports whereas Bokuto shined in presentations; his natural charisma and invigorating nature turning him into an articulate and snappy presenter, showing graphs, statistics, and other reports to the Miya twins, Osamu and Atsumu, two well-known faces in the volleyball world. A pair of rare alpha twins, they were a setter and wing-spiker duo on the Japanese national team. However, being alphas (and brothers at that) they were prone to squabbling on court owed to their competitiveness and extremely high expectations for each other. Though the fights would be settled briefly enough, it remained a liability especially when it threatened to turn physical. They were the ideal target for the new pills. 

Settling the roles over a game of rock-paper-scissors, it was decided that Atsumu would be the control group, receiving no pills while Osamu, begrudgingly, would undergo a closely-monitored trial ingesting an amount of medicine measured in response to his height, weight, dietary habits, and physical activity over a month. These in turn would influence his pheromonal output, which the pills would suppress and allegedly lower aggression on court. 

They claimed no harmful side-effects, with the exception of an adjustment period of a week (mild headaches, slight irritability) and have the clearance from government health organizations. In exchange, the company was going to shell out massive amounts of cash as well as cover any possible damages caused by the medicine, were it to fail. 

“It’s a gamble,” one of their coaches Kurosu Norimune said, tapping his temple in contemplation. “But your company’s meds have always been safe and effective. If you manage to fix our little problem here, you might just change the world of alpha sports as we know it.”

“Lookin’ forward to being the guinea pig, ‘Samu?” Atsumu sniggered.

“Shut up, ‘Tsumu.” Osamu scoffed, presumably kicking his brother in the leg from how Atsumu jumped in his seat. 

Akaashi felt as if he had to diffuse the situation. He raised a hand, glancing at Kurosu, “If I may speak,” he waited, then Kurosu nodded at him, “our company will guarantee your safety. We have highly-specialized doctors under drug safety cooperating with us. They are available for consultation and other inquiries you might have about the medicine. They will visit every week on Fridays to monitor the results. All we ask is you follow their instructions very closely for maximum results.” 

Kurosu gripped the Miya twins’ shoulders tightly. “You heard him, you two?” 

They both nodded. 

“We’ll be keeping in touch then. Up now,” he pulled the twins to their feet. “Thank you for the offer, Mr. Bokuto,” the old man bowed, and the Miya twins alongside him. Akaashi bowed as they left, keeping respectful while accustomed to being left out in greetings and goodbyes. In their absence, Bokuto broke character and pumped his fists high up in the air. 

“Hey, hey, hey! We got the Miya twins! Yessssss!” he hissed. 

“Mr. Bokuto, you left out the part about the pharmacovigilance,” Akaashi reminded him. 

“Eh? Phar...what? Pharmaco-- huh? Is that an actual word?” Bokuto looked at him in disbelief. 

“Yes, it’s the technical term for our drug safety staff.”

“Oh, whatever! I got them, didn’t I?”

“I suppose so,” he said. 

Bokuto grinned. “Then there’s no problem! And you always have my back, don’t you?”

At that, the corner of Akaashi’s lip twitched. “Yes, sir.” 

“Come on, then! Let’s get outta here!” Bokuto began pushing Akaashi out the meeting room. 

Perhaps it was just a slight oversight of his, but until now, he never fully paid attention to just how much he and Bokuto touched each other; what was just casual friendliness on Bokuto’s, and what wasn’t. Now those lines were being blurred gradually. 

Akaashi let himself be pushed outside. 

\---  
Yakini-gyu was a fairly popular bar-and-grill joint at the very edge of the city. One would think because of its location it would have gone out of business quickly, but they owed their surprising popularity with older audiences to their fair prices, great selection of alcoholic beverages, and wide varieties of meat to grill: thick cuts of pork belly, marinated sukiyaki-cuts, pork loin, and even slices of wagyu beef-- Bokuto’s absolute favorite. He thrived in this environment where he could eat as much as he wanted, drink as much as he could stomach, be as loud as everyone else, and be surrounded by friends to make banter with. 

They had visited this place months before with Kuroo as a part of their ‘food-spotting’, their favorite hobby together from their university days when the stress of being a student and the athletic demand of Kamigawa’s volleyball team made them voracious eaters. They still were, being alphas, but it had mellowed out considerably now that they had jobs and other priorities. Bokuto and Kuroo heard about Yakini-gyu from somewhere and promptly dragged him along when they celebrated Kuroo officially ‘finishing’ the pill project. The tentative name for the pill was ‘Alfacotrol’, a name that they unanimously agreed while drunk at 12AM, sounded like shit. 

“Welcome to Yakini-gyu!” A waitress smiled at Bokuto in particular. “Table for how many, sir?”

“Four, please! Can we get a stall?” He smiled warmly, taking a deep breath. The smell of grilled meat was already clinging to their clothes just standing by the entrance.

“Of course! Please, follow me,” she gestured inside, leading them past tables with circular grills in the middle. The place wasn’t quite full yet, but it was going to pick up soon from the looks of it. She led them to a stall seating four people, very close to the cashier and kitchens guaranteeing quick service for an alpha and his companions. “Right here, sirs!” She nodded. The waitress gave Akaashi a glance and turned to Bokuto. “Would you like to start ordering?” 

“Sure!” He said, taking a seat.

She only handed Bokuto a menu, seeing Akaashi wave his hand in decline. 

Akaashi took a seat across him, taking off his blazer and hanging it over the backrest. He began rolling up his sleeves to his elbows while Bokuto was shooting orders of pork belly and wagyu tenderloin like a gun. Then, Akaashi remembered Kenma would be there, and gestured at the waitress. 

“Excuse me miss, can we also get one iced tea, please?” 

Bokuto stopped listing meat. “You like iced tea, Akaashi?” 

“No, I prefer regular tea. It’s for Kenma,”

“Of course you like tea! Then miss, do you have some house tea?” He turned right back to the waitress. 

Akaashi left him to settle the orders to text Kenma. 

Akaashi: _Are you going?_

Kozume: _On my way!_  
_*on the way_

Akaashi smiled. Kenma didn’t like expressing his emotions too much, but they did make for some funny moments sometimes, like how he’d rather retype the message (despite his laziness) than seem joyful for a second. 

Akaashi: _How long until you get here?_

Kozume: _Parking right now_

Akaashi: _Okay. See you._

Akaashi waited eagerly. Bokuto had finished ordering drinks and noticed. 

“‘Kaashi, you excited to see Kenma?” 

“Yes, it’s been a few weeks since we saw each other,” he said. 

Bokuto grinned. “You guys sound really close! When did you meet, anyway?” 

“Hm,” he rubbed his chin. “A few years ago, when I was still a junior at university. He worked at a small bookstore, and sold me my textbooks.” 

The alpha gaped. “Then what? He doesn’t really strike me as the talk-y type, y’know? How’d you like, make friends and stuff?” 

Bokuto’s random curiosity was a good thing at times. “We talked over the books, mostly. I’d ask how are you to be polite at first, but eventually he started saying other things than ‘I’m fine’. Then it just happened,” he said. 

“The friendship? That easily?” He sounded surprised. 

“Well,” he said, “not _that_ easily. It took time.” A lot of it, in fact. He remembered a time when Kenma wouldn’t speak back at all, only nodding or staring at the cash register until Akaashi would go away. Normally he would have left it at that, but there was just something to the omega that Akaashi couldn’t quite shake off at the time. Like being drawn to an abandoned cat on a rainy night. Now they were each other’s closest friend, even if they had their own lives. 

“Akaashi, look!” Bokuto pointed at the entrance. 

And it appeared that Kenma was taking on a new life of his own. Akaashi could barely believe his eyes. 

Arriving through the entrance was Kenma, Kuroo’s arm casually slung over his shoulders. They were coordinately dressed with new clothes instead of his usual hoodie-pants ensemble, but it suited Kenma so well Akaashi did a double-take. It could have stopped at their physical closeness and clothes but this was entirely different: they were _bickering._ From the looks of it, Kenma didn’t find the smell of the place too nice as he scrunched up his nose. Kuroo snickered and pinched the nose while Kenma swatted his hand away. At that, Kuroo snickered again, catching sight of their table which he told Kenma. The pair made their way to the table, Kuroo sliding off his arm as they neared. 

“‘Ey,” Kuroo waved, “are we late?” he asked. 

Kenma took his beside Akaashi. “Hi,” he mumbled, looking… bashful, somehow?

“Hello, Kozume,” he said with a brief bow. “You look…”

Before he could continue, Bokuto stood abruptly, spreading his arms wide for the other alpha. “Kuroo! Come ‘ere, dude!” He grinned. Kuroo greeted him with the same level of enthusiasm, flashing finger-guns and coming in for the bear hug. They patted each other’s backs loudly, and Kenma grimaced, possibly imagining that an impact like that might shatter his spine. Once the alpha duo pulled away, they sat back down. Right on time, the waitress from earlier arrived with some of their drinks. Four mugs of cold beer, a steaming pot of tea, and a tall glass of sweet iced tea. Once she left, Kuroo put his elbows on the table, leaning forward with a suggestive smirk on his face. 

“Soooo,” he slid his glance from Akaashi to Bokuto, “how’re the boyfriends getting along~?”

He glanced away, fighting a blush from appearing on his face. As he turned, just at the corner of his eye, did he just see Kenma freeze for a second? 

Bokuto bashfully rubbed his hair, “Aw c’mon Kuroo, Akaashi and I barely even… I mean, we _are_ technically boyfriends now, but we haven’t done anything yet!”

“Oya oya~? You sure? Is he saying the truth, Akaashi?” He asked, hoping to get a rise from the beta. 

“It’s true,” Akaashi nodded, “we really haven’t done anything. Today was only ‘officializing’ the title. The only other thing was...” He trailed off, warmth rushing to his face. 

_‘No. Don’t let it show on your face.’_

He wondered just what was he getting so worked up over? Wasn’t tying your boss’ tie just… a normal secretary thing to do? Akaashi ignored the pot of tea and grabbed a mug of beer, downing it quickly. 

“Man, you really talk like that, huh?” Kuroo laughed, and grabbed a mug of beer himself, before realizing just how fast Akaashi’s drink was disappearing down his throat. “Holy shit,” he cussed, staring in awe. Both he and Bokuto. 

“Akaashi…” Bokuto said, wide-eyed at him. 

Akaashi slammed down the mug, and let out a breath. “My apologies,” he said. 

“Damn,” Kuroo said, still grinning. “Pace yourself, will ya? The meat’s just getting here,” he pointed at a waiter approaching their table carrying a tray laden with meat cuts. Bokuto practically vibrated in his seat, already clicking a pair of tongs in excitement. 

Akaashi felt a tug on his sleeve. It was Kenma, who waved his phone at him. He nodded and picked up his, Bokuto and Kuroo’s arguing over what meat goes first fade in the background.

Kozume: _Akaashi what was that about_

Akaashi: _I just panicked for a second. It’s no problem._  
_What about you? I was about to say you look different tonight._

Kenma was now glancing down at his clothes, at him, then at the other customers, a nervous look on his face.

Kozume: _Does it look weird_

Akaashi: _No, not at all. It suits you, actually. Did Kuroo get you those clothes? I’m surprised you let him._

Kozume: _Its a long story_

Akaashi: _Do tell, we have time. All night in fact. Once Bokuto and Kuroo get going, they’re not going to stop any time soon, I think._

He looked up and just as predicted, Bokuto and Kuroo had gone off into a world of their own, joking around and drinking in their own bubble, which Akaashi was content to leave be. He was looking forward to meeting Kenma, and had been swept up earlier by Kuroo’s statements. But now he was stable, they could talk as long as they pleased. 

Kenma beside him looked hesitant, typing and erasing lines of text. 

His hesitation worried Akaashi. He couldn’t quite shake off the feeling from earlier, when Kenma said ‘I’m fine’ a little too fast for his liking. “Kozume,” he whispered. He would have said ‘Kenma’ but it was reserved for when they were alone together. “It’s okay, just tell me.” 

“...Mmm,” the omega hummed, nodding. 

So Kenma began to tell him about that time he and Kuroo went outside one day. It seemed inconspicuous at first but then he mentioned certain details. First, Kuroo had taken the time to calm him down during a panic attack. At that, he was in disbelief. Though Kuroo wasn’t bad, and he could even argue that his provocative nature was just a front for those he wasn’t close to, Akaashi couldn’t envision him having a capacity to calm a guy like _Kenma._ Then there was the arcade, where Kuroo acted as a ‘guard’ while Kenma defeated what he made out to be quite a fair number of people. He felt as if here, Kenma left a crucial detail. Guard _how_ exactly? It was left unanswered when Kenma concluded with them eating at a ramen joint. 

Akaashi: _I see. How considerate of him._

Kozume: _Yeah_

Akaashi: _And how is the situation at home? I know I haven’t been calling, but you can text me._

Kozume: _I think_  
_I dont have to worry about that_  
_Because_  
_Nvm_

Akaashi: _Kenma._

He looked at the blonde, who looked away. 

“Hey Kenma, eat some meat, will ya?” Kuroo said, piling some grilled meat on his plate and exchanging it with Kenma’s empty one. It smelled and looked delicious, still bubbling from the heat. “So you can actually grow up,” 

“Shut up, Kuro,” Kenma muttered, glaring at him. 

Kuroo clicked his tongue, winked, and raised a middle finger, before seamlessly sliding back into his conversation with Bokuto, who had his cheeks filled with meat. As Kuroo scolded him, Akaashi stared at Kenma, who had just acted… like that. 

Akaashi: _It seems you two have gotten comfortable with each other._

Akaashi watched as Kenma’s eyes widened at his message. 

“Not really,” he said, his eyes darting around furtively. “Not at all, actually.” 

_‘Oh, something is up.’_ He thought.

Akaashi: _Are you sure about that? You look nervous, Kenma. Did something happen?_

Because sometimes Akaashi he liked teasing his friends too. He didn’t expect anything out of it; just for Kenma to tell him that they were just being friendly

Kozume: _Okay maybe_  
_There was this time_  
_But im not too sure what it means_

Akaashi’s throat dried up as he stared like a fish at his screen. 

Akaashi: _What happened?_

Kenma: _Nvm_  
_Maybe later_  
_Or not_  
_Depends_

Akaashi: _On what exactly??_

Kenma: _If I get drunk enough to say_

“Kenma, you can’t possibly plan on getting drunk!” He blurted out, grabbing his friend by the shoulder.

Kuroo stood from the benches, but was promptly pulled back down by Bokuto. 

_“Kuroo!”_ Bokuto hissed. 

Kuroo pinched the bridge of his nose, waving his hand dismissively. “Yep, sorry. Just got spooked, a lil’,” he breathed out. He let go of his face, returning to his carefree expression. “Anyways, you’re planning on drinking, Kenma? Not under my watch!” 

“...Why not?” Kenma asked. “I’m 27,”

“Ke-- Kozume, that’s not the point here,” Akaashi shook his head. “You don’t drink at all, so you might get drunk immediately,” and it was not a good idea. Even Kuroo acknowledged it!

“Hey, hey!” Bokuto piped up, waving his arms around. “If he wants to drink, just let him have a little!” 

Kenma’s nod was like a twitch just then, avoiding Bokuto’s line of sight. 

“Come on, here!” Bokuto grabbed a mug, halved its content by switching it to his, before passing it to Kenma. 

Kuroo blocked the mug. “Wait, wait. If Kenma’s going to drink, we have to apply science here,” 

Bokuto groaned, and Kuroo rolled his eyes. “I won’t let you drink until you finish what’s on your plate,” he pointed, at the still-full plate of grilled meat. Kenma grimaced, shaking his head. 

“I don’t want to,” he said, “I’m not hungry,” 

“Let me explain first! See, the more food in your stomach, the slower the effect of the alcohol. The fats and proteins in meat basically coat your stomach lining, and so--” 

“Okay, fine.” Kenma grumbled, stabbing some beef with his chopsticks. “Just shut up about the chemistry already…” He shoved it into his mouth, chewing angrily like a child forced to eat his vegetables. Kuroo snickered, victorious. 

Akaashi remained quiet, but his head was a whirlwind of thoughts and questions: _Did he see that properly? Kuroo got Kenma to eat? Wait, that’s not what’s important here… But how? Just what happened between these two in such a short amount of time? And when they entered… That was their proxy, right? Did Kenma get used to that, too? No. There was that pinch on his nose Kuroo did. That was more than just a proxy._

The casual nature of their actions appeared more than just formalities to Akaashi, who paid him a suspicious sideways glance as he resentfully ate.

“There,” Kenma said, finishing the plate. He looked oddly proud with his chin tilted up, staring defiantly at Kuroo who chuckled and put the mug in front of him. 

“‘Kay, you win~ Bottom’s up, Kenma!” 

Kenma took the mug, inspecting its contents and sniffing. He scowled, pulling the mug away from his face. “Ew,” he whispered. 

Kuroo barked out laughter. “You can’t take it, can you? God, you’re like a cat, asking for things and then hating it, give me that,” he reached over to take the mug. 

Kenma placed it out of his reach. “No, I’m drinking it,” he insisted. 

“Oya? Do it then, scaredy-cat~” 

Kuroo’s smirk shifted into alarm, realization, then panic in a matter of seconds as Kenma downed the contents, much like Akaashi did earlier. The beta felt a twinge of guilt feeling as if he had inadvertently taught Kenma what to do. 

“Kozume…!” Akaashi glanced around, then mouthed ‘water’ at a waiter nearby. 

“Oi, Kenma! I was joking, jeez!” Kuroo got up and went over to Kenma’s side. Kenma had doubled over, gripping his mouth while trying not to spit out the beer. “Just spit it out!” 

Akaashi watched the look of absolute spite Kenma gave the alpha as he gulped loudly, shuddering as it went down. He coughed, and shook his head. “That was horrible,” he muttered, his face already turning pink.

“Oh my god,” Kuroo moaned, shaking his head. He took his seat again, staring at Kenma with a like the omega was an overwhelming math exam. “Why?” 

Kenma hummed ‘I don’t know,’ and shrugged, leaning back in his seat. 

Kuroo made a face and took a sip of beer. 

Akaashi himself already felt quite exasperated at what had just happened. The day was just a rollercoaster, with all sorts of unexpected things happening one after the other. He noticed the waiter approach with water, and waved them over, offering the first glass to his friend. 

“...anks,” Kenma said, barely above a whisper. He sipped on the edge slowly, and Akaashi sighed with relief. He expected him to go throw up, but he appeared fine, save for the redness. He would have to look out for him later for signs of drunkenness. 

Suddenly, he felt something tap against his leg. It came from Bokuto, who gestured they lean down the side of the table. He did, meeting Bokuto in the eyes. The alpha was grinning, looking excited. 

“Hey, Akaashi! Kenma’s a pretty fun guy, isn’t he? I see why he’s your friend now! Kuroo’s getting along super well with him, too!” He whispered. It was a loud whisper just slightly below the normal tone but it was Bokuto he was dealing with here. 

“Ye-yes,” he answered. But Kenma… wasn’t usually that way. Not like the way he was with Kuroo; the joking and the playful swats. He felt a twinge in his chest. 

Bokuto looked disheartened. “What’s wrong, ‘Kaashi? Are you feeling down?” 

He blinked and touched his own face. “...What gave it away?” 

“You’re quiet. Even more than usual! Um,” Bokuto looked uncertain, “is it because of this? Did… Did I ruin today?” 

Bokuto and his considerations always caught him off-guard. He let out a breath, a small smile forming on his lips, “no, it’s not that Mist-- Ko-- Bokuto.” _‘Koutarou,’_ he wanted to say. “I’m just worried about Kenma, he seems like he’s pushing himself too much,”

“Really? I think he’s fine! He made the decision, didn’t he?” 

“Yes, but,” 

“It’ll be fine!” Bokuto reached over, and clasped Akaashi’s hand. His fingers were warm and Akaashi only noticed how his own cold fingers appreciated it. He didn’t pull away, but hooked his slender fingers around the larger ones. Bokuto’s breath hitched and his eyes darted around from the floor, to the ceiling, to the sides of the his periphery. Anywhere but Akaashi, who found this side of him quite amusing. Like something was loosening up and unwinding in his chest. “U-uhh… He… he just… Do what... He wants…!” Bokuto stammered, his face flaring up. 

Akaashi chuckled and grasped his hand tighter, weaving fingers. “You might be right,” he said, smiling again. “Perhaps I was just new to the change,” 

“Well, then, get used to it!” Bokuto grinned, tugging their interlocked hands. “Kuroo is a decent guy, but I’m a _good_ guy!” He added with a confident huff. 

“Ah,” Akaashi had to lean in closer as Bokuto tugged. “You’re partially correct,” he said. 

“Whaaaat? Why not full points, Akaashi?” Bokuto whined. 

“You can be a pretty great guy sometimes,” Akaashi whispered, _“Koutarou.”_ And he was just getting used to it, himself. Not the mercy of a boss, but the kindness of somebody who could be closer. 

Bokuto made a noise like an overheating kettle, promptly letting go of their hands and melting on the couch, leaning right on Kuroo, who had been putting food on Kenma’s plate. The raven-haired alpha groaned in exasperation, trying to shove him off for being all ‘sweaty and gross.’ 

Akaashi righted himself and turned to Kenma. “How are you?” He asked. 

“Mmmfine,” Kenma mumbled. The redness in his face seemed to have settled down, though he looked miserable having to eat more food. Akaashi, realizing his own hunger just then, decided to help him out a bit by taking some. “What were you two doing down there?” Kenma asked. 

“Just… talking,” Akaashi said.

“You’re smiling,” Kenma told him, pointing his chopsticks at his face. 

Akaashi was surprised when he felt his cheek that he was. “I am,” he said. He didn’t feel the need to clasp a hand over his mouth or squeeze his cheeks. “I am smiling,” 

“Then, that’s great,” Kenma said, watching as a waiter approached with a bottle of sake. She set down four shot glasses. 

“What were you going to tell me?” Akaashi asked suddenly. Kenma froze, then looked away. “Were you thinking I’d forget?” 

He nodded. “...Mybadsorry,” he muttered quickly. 

“Tell me though,” the beta insisted. 

“...I think I need more drinks,” Kenma said, reaching for a shot glass which Kuroo deftly swiped away. 

“Nuh-uh, Kenma! Nuh- _uh!_ ” He tutted, wagging a finger. “Enough already, you burgeoning alcoholic!” 

“What did you say about the bourgeoisie?” Bokuto narrowed his eyes, and turned to Akaashi. “Did I use that right?” 

Akaashi shook his head. “Not at all, no,” 

“Whatever! Just let him have one shot, Kuroo! He can probably take it, right?” Bokuto grinned, sliding a shot glass at Kenma. Kenma bowed stiffly in thanks. “See? Kuroo, stop being such a dad!” 

“I’m just looking out for his safety, unlike you, Mr. Walking Hazard!” Kuroo jabbed at Bokuto’s chest. 

“Say what? I’m not a walking hazard! I don’t even-- I mean there was that one time with the--” Bokuto stopped himself, blinking hard in realization as if contemplating a series of his mistakes. As usual, he looked at Akaashi for help like a child with a difficult math problem. 

Akaashi snorted and laughed. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you here, Bokuto,” 

“Nooooo!” Bokuto groaned, slumping over the table. Had it not been for Akaashi and Kuroo’s combined efforts, his hair would have been singed by the grill. 

“And that’s that~” Kuroo smirked mischievously. “The conclusion? You _are_ a walking hazard.” 

While Kuroo had been distracted by Bokuto, Kenma took the opportunity to pour himself a shot. He gave it an experimental sniff, hissed in disdain, then swallowing it all in one go. 

“No!” Kuroo yelled. He grabbed Kenma’s glass but Kenma slapped his hand. 

“Quit bein’ such a nag, Kuro…” 

Bokuto burst out laughing, slapping Kuroo’s back. “Yeah, loosen up, Kuroo! Let him drink!” 

As expected Kenma grimaced at the taste and leaned against Akaashi. Akaashi touched his head, and it was hot. He replaced Kenma’s empty glass of water, and the omega took it, drinking gulps. “Thanks,” he said, getting off Akaashi. “You’re my only friend here, Akaashi…” 

Akaashi blinked. “...I see, thank you.”

“Um,” Kuroo looked offended. “I thought _we_ were friends Kenma,”

He thought that was interesting, that Kuroo thought he and Kenma were friends. The fact he could say it meant Kenma did in fact consider them as such. 

Kenma chuckled, clearly drunk enough to allow it, “‘Kay, we’re all friends then,” he slurred. “Best friends,”

“To best friends!” Bokuto cheered, raising his shot glass. His face was just as red. 

Akaashi and Kuroo nodded at each other. If Kenma and Bokuto were agreeing, it meant it was time to go home before they get any more drunk. They both decided to lay off the alcohol, waving off a waitress carrying more bottles of beer. Instead, they made sure Bokuto and Kenma drank lots of water to wash the alcohol down. They had more difficulty with Kenma, who refused to let anything near his mouth, only agreeing once Akaashi coaxed him into it. Bokuto had loudly exclaimed he was going to the toilet. 

Kuroo sighed, collapsing against his seat. “So glad he listens to you,”

“Excuse me?” Akaashi asked, letting Kenma lean on his shoulder again.

“He really is like a cat, that one,” the alpha pointed. “Never know what’s going on his head sometimes,”

“True that,” he said. Kuroo was being chattier with him. They usually only talked with the presence of Bokuto. “But I’m also a bit envious of you two,”

“Huh?” Kuroo looked confused. 

“It seems you’ve cracked Kenma’s shell faster than I could,”

“Really now? I don’t think that at all.”

“It’s true, I can tell. You two were,” he paused, thinking of a word to say, “really close earlier. When you came in.”

“Ah, that?” Kuroo rubbed the back of his head. “That’s just the proxy,” he muttered quietly. 

Akaashi couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol, or a blush on his cheeks. Kuroo coughed and spoke again, changing the topic. 

“You know, I didn’t see you actually liking Bokuto back. He’s such a handful, a walking hazard isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Akaashi thought there would never be an instant where he’d deny that, “but…”

“But…?”

“He’s more than that, too. He can inspire others, because he’s quite earnest and tries really hard. I can’t deny that about him. Support is what he needs to succeed at anything.”

“And you’ll be that support?” Kuroo asked, swirling some leftover sake. He drank it. 

“For as long as I can. He’s brilliant, when he wants to be,” Akaashi spotted Bokuto emerge from the washrooms, his face and some parts of his shirt wet with droplets. His skin from the face down was a bright pink. “Don’t let him know I said that,”

“His huge head will explode,” he and Kuroo said simultaneously. They both chuckled. 

“Hey, hey, hey! What’s this?” Bokuto popped up, squinting at Kuroo.

“Nothin’ at all, Bokuto~” Kuroo said, a sly smirk. “Just talking with your boyfriend here,”

“Damn right he’s my boyfriend,” he huffed, looping his arm around Akaashi’s shoulder. “Don’t you ever forget that!”

Akaashi sat straighter. His body was so unbearably warm, and smelled mostly of alcohol, and scents of pine. “B-Bokuto,” he said, flushing. 

“Yeah?” Bokuto asked, looking at him eagerly. 

“We should head home,” he said, gently peeling Kenma off him while he stood. 

“I got you,” Kuroo said, standing up as well. He mostly said it at Kenma, who had woken up from his brief nap, looking much more alert. “You okay, Kenma?” 

Kenma nodded, massaging his own face. “Yeah,” he said. “Mostly,”

Kuroo footed the bill and they left. It was chilly outside, so Akaashi and Bokuto had worn their blazers again, while Kenma stuck to Kuroo like glue. He was shivering all the way to the parking lot. Akaashi hooked his arm with Bokuto’s which ensured him from walking into other cars. Kuroo asked (jokingly?) if Kenma wanted to be carried instead. Kenma took a while to decline, as he was steady enough to walk. They reached their car first, a shiny black one provided by the company for Akaashi to drive Bokuto around in. Kuroo’s car was off somewhere at the edge of the lot. 

Akaashi strapped Bokuto in very firmly. He looked quite sleepy and had gone quiet, content to wait in the warming car. “Well then,” he said, bowing at Kuroo. “Thank you for your time, Kuroo. And Kozume, are you sure you will be alright?” He asked, glancing at the alpha for a second. 

“Yes,” he said. “I’ll be fine,” His teeth were chattering, and Kuroo took off his coat, wrapping it around Kenma. “Kuro, no,” he said, trying to give it back. 

“Hey, it’s no big deal,” he said. “I’ll go get the car. I’m sure you two wanna catch up _properly._ I’ll warm up the car. Ten minutes, ‘kay?” He waved at them and left jogging. 

“Hey,” Akaashi said. “We’re finally alone, Kenma.”

“Mmm,” he nodded. 

“What were you going to tell me?” 

“Ah,” Kenma looked away.

“It is something bad you had to drink?”

“N-no, actually. I’m… just not sure what to make of it,” he said. “Earlier today... “ 

He stepped closer, gently putting his hands on Kenma’s shoulders. “Did he hurt you?” 

Kenma shook his head hard. “No, no. He said-- no, asked, if he could… kiss me. What do you think of that?” 

It felt like the world had just shattered into pieces. “He… asked you that?” Akaashi stared straight ahead, his sight unfocused but ears trained to every one of Kenma’s words.

“Y-yeah, is that… bad?” 

He couldn’t respond. A myriad of questions flooded his head again. He shook his head of them, grasping Kenma’s shoulders fimly. “I wouldn’t say it is, since he asked. But do you know what it means?” 

“Does it mean that he wants to level up the relationship?” Kenma guessed.

“Just what is your relationship, anyway?” 

At that, Kenma froze. He took moments to finally respond. “...We call each other boyfriends,” he said. 

_Boyfriends._

“I know it’s fake though,” he whispered, almost sounding resentful. 

“Would it make you happy if it was real, then?” 

“Huh!?” Kenma jolted like Akaashi had electrocuted him. “W-what do you mean, Akaashi?” 

He considered his words carefully. He considered tonight, the way they stepped in together, how they can touch one another so easily, and how Kuroo exhibited his care for the other; the coat draped around Kenma’s shoulders as proof. “You know what I mean, Kenma. Didn’t you say I should look for happiness?” 

“This-- This is different,” he said, a look of apprehension on his face. “You have a choice.” 

Akaashi pointed at his chest. “So do you. He asked, didn’t he? You can say yes, or no.” 

“That…” Kenma’s look melted away into a reluctant acceptance of his words. He stared at the ground, his feet shifting.

“I think you should be… more proactive with your life, Kenma. Try and strive for what you deserve,”

Kenma shook his head. “I don’t know if I can. I’m just an omega, it’s not like I can do anything I want.” 

Akaashi knew Kenma resented his secondary gender more than anything. It wasn’t something they could change. “I can’t deny that. But that doesn’t take away everything. Little steps,”

“Little steps,” Kenma repeated. “Then, what should I do?” 

“That’s your choice, isn’t it?” Akaashi laughed, patting his head. “I am positive you can choose for yourself.” 

A black car pulled up in frot of them. The windows slid down, revealing Kuroo, who waved at them. “Kenma, you ready? Need more time?” 

Kenma glanced at Akaashi, waiting for him to say something. He shook his head, gesturing at Bokuto. “It’s about time I took him home,” he said, pointing at the Bokuto sleeping in the car. “You should go, Kenma.”

“Okay,” he said, nodding. 

“I think,” he said, stopping the omega, “I think Kuroo’s a good person.” 

Kenma stared at him before answering. “...Maybe. We’ll know in the morning.”

Akaashi waved as they drove off. It was time for him and Bokuto to go home as well.

\---

Now, he didn’t exactly know what led to his current circumstance; perhaps it was how their warm bodies were pressed against each other as Akaashi escorted Bokuto to his room, or it could have been at the very start where Bokuto was staring at him so intently at the car, or maybe it was how Bokuto whispered ‘Keiji’ inches away from their lips before it collided, but Akaashi was currently straddling Bokuto’s hips on his bed, the front of his shirt unbuttoned all the way down, trying not to moan as Bokuto nibbled his neck. 

“Ah, Bokuto” he breathed out. His hands gripped his head, pulling Bokuto’s lips away from his skin with a wet noise. He crashed their lips together before he could even take a breath; the alpha’s hands were roaming his body, finding any bit of skin it could get to underneath all his corporate attire. He moaned hotly as the hands caressed his spine, sending tremors throughout his body. Akaashi breathed in the overwhelming smell of the forest emanating off Bokuto, responding to the kisses with discreet moans. He found himself flipped over the bed, Bokuto on him like a leopard pouncing on its prey. The alpha’s eyes gleamed with intent as he licked his lips. 

“Shit,” he panted, grinning while planted a kiss and a nibble on his collarbone. “You’re so sexy like this. Keiji, Can we?”

Akaashi’s breath hitched as he flared up, his hands flying to his chest, a meager attempt at modesty despite his moaning earlier. “I said,” he stammered out, “I said we should take it slow,” 

And this was the exact opposite of that. He got swept up in the kisses, caresses, and whatever alcohol remained in his system. His heart was racing and Bokuto had never felt so large and encompassing, each muscled arm pressed into the mattress by his shoulders, keeping him there. Not that he wanted to leave in particular. 

“Aww…” Bokuto hung his head low, dejected. The tips were touching Akaashi’s forearms. Ticklish. 

“Then,” he panted, just as exhilarated, “ _once._ You get one kiss, Koutarou.” His lips were tingling. 

Bokuto spared no time, kissing him like it was his last. Their lips barely parted, save for sharp inhales, before pressing back once more. Bokuto tasted like sake and meat, but Akaashi didn’t care. Their tongues slid against one another; wet and warm and soft and heated. They moaned in between breaths, eliciting noises from Akaashi he never knew he could make from kissing alone. They parted with loud gasps after what seemed like forever, panting like they ran a full marathon twice over. 

They held each other’s heated gaze which never faltered. Akaashi was acutely aware of every single thing about Bokuto: how fast his heart beat while they were kissing, how his fingers trembled when he touched his cheek, and just now, the single, slow and deliberate motion of his thumb dragging against his wet bottom lip. 

Akaashi kissed him again. He lost the hesitation. And his blazer.

Then another. Bokuto had undone and thrown away their ties. 

“Oh my god,” Akaashi breathed out, covering Bokuto’s mouth. He felt a grin form against his palm, followed by a kiss and a wink. “Oh my god, we have to stop,” or else he’d be naked at this point. 

“Do we really?” Bokuto asked, touching his waist. 

Akaashi shivered. _‘No.’_ “Yes. We start slow. From this point onwards.”

He expected Bokuto to whine, but he didn’t. The alpha exhaled deeply, and pressed his face against Akaashi’s chest. His heart was beating loudly, and though it was impossible not to hear it, he hoped Bokuto couldn’t. Bokuto mumbled against the beta’s skin something that sounded like his name. Akaashi gulped. “Yes?” 

“Are you going to leave?” he asked, an innocent question. 

“...I don’t know,” Akaashi admitted. 

“Stay with me, Keiji?” 

_‘Yes.’_

"Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I hope you guys like this super big BokuAka update! This is by far the biggest chapter in the whole fic :O 
> 
> With that being said, I won't be updating from 2 weeks onward because I have midterms and other submissions :( This fic eats up a lot of my time which I do enjoy, but it seems fair to say that after the brief hiatus, expect a chapter once a week instead of 3-4. I hope you guys understand ;^; 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Likes and comments always appreciated, I always try to reply to them all!
> 
> You can find me on  Twitter! Even if I'm not writing, that doesn't mean I won't stop appreciating kuroken/hq :D


	19. A Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Kenma follows Akaashi's advice ending with him and Kuroo getting close. Very close. Then they watch a volleyball game and Kenma catches feelings like it's a disease.

Kenma sighed with relief as he entered the car, strapping himself in. (He learned that Kuroo didn’t like the noise the car made when the passenger seat wasn’t strapped.) He had turned up the temperature which Kenma was grateful for. He rubbed warmth into his fingers, then stuck them to the heaters. Kuroo was silent, and Kenma wished he would ask what they had talked about. He didn’t, instead reaching over to raise the temperature a bit more. Kenma stayed silent himself, hoping Akaashi would do fine. No, Akaashi _will_ be fine. He made his decision, didn’t he? And Bokuto was loud, sure, but he wasn’t a bad guy. Akaashi makes good and rational decisions, unlike him, who let life make his decisions for him.

 _I think you should be more proactive with your life, Kenma._

He shook the thought from his head. Just what could he do?

_Little steps._

Small decisions. Simple choices that would matter. 

_Can I kiss you?_

Suddenly his fingers didn’t need warming up anymore. Kenma leaned back against the seat and sighed. He could still taste beer. He preferred the sake, but not by much. He could still feel the warmth in his throat and stomach, and he expected to black out anytime soon, but oddly enough he felt perfectly sober. In fact, his head was clear. He clenched his fists experimentally, and it felt fine. Toes, too. Being sober was kind of disappointing. 

_I think Kuroo’s a good person._

Maybe his head was too clear. He pulled out his phone and started playing games, but found his screen too bright, and the games too boring. God, he remembered a time when he would grab any moment to play games. Now it didn’t seem all that important; he just wanted to rest his eyes. He turned his head to Kuroo, focused on driving. Kenma’s lips were dry. He licked them. 

Kuroo’s features came to light in split-seconds at a time as they passed street lamps down the road. Out of Yakini-gyu, they had entered the winding road downhill. It was late at night, around 10 or 11PM and hardly anyone else was on the road with them. He had counted one car driving out of the city, and that was it. Because it was dark and Kenma didn’t want to play games, he had nothing else to distract him from the silence. Nothing but Kuroo’s face, so helpfully spotlighted by the street lamps. He can’t remember if he had ever taken a proper look. He knew what Kuroo looked like, but never this detailed; never this long. 

Straight nose.

Sharp jawline. 

Some eyebags.

Bedhead. Raven mess. 

It’s softer than it looks, he remembered. Kenma’s fingers twitch.

“Have I become hotter to you, or are you just trying to bug me out?” Kuroo asked, his eyes briefly flitting at him before returning to the road. 

As he spoke, Kenma noticed how his lower lip was just slightly thicker than his upper lip.

_Can I kiss you?_

A breath was caught in his throat. Kenma shouldn’t have been looking at his lips. In fact, he shouldn’t have been looking in the first place. Not that he could help it when he was strapped to the front seat without anything to do. His window was practically void and he had just realized Kuroo was driving without glasses after a cold night of drinking down a rocky hillside road leading back to the city. He gripped the seatbelt tightly at the slightest curve in the road. Still, he couldn’t keep his eyes off him. It didn’t help, not when he was trying to push down the memory of him asking if they could kiss. Dammit, there were more pressing issues here, like the possibility of a car crash! 

“You’re drunk-staring at me.”

“I’m not drunk,” Kenma muttered.

“And I’m not a biochemist,” he said with a snort, slowing the vehicle to a halt. He pressed the hazard button, the now car filled with a ticking noise. They had stopped near a light, and Kenma could finally see his whole face. His face was hot. Kenma’s _own_ face was hot. Not Kuroo’s. Not with his long lashes, and cat-like eyes. Not with that messy fringe, or the contemplative look on his face as he reached over, a hand extending near Kenma’s cheek and without much thought into it, Kenma pressed his cheek against his palm. 

Kuroo stared and Kenma could feel his gaze, and the foreignness of his own actions. Kuroo jerked his hand away like he had touched a hot kettle and Kenma was boiling internally. 

“Right, you’re drunk,” Kuroo mumbled, reaching for something in the backseat. “Totally drunk.”

Kenma swallowed hard as Kuroo’s clavicle came into underneath the top unbuttoned portion of his dress shirt; the fabric stretched tight around his broad chest. Kenma tried not to imagine the buttons popping open, exposing his pecs. He squirmed away until he was pressed against the car door. He exhaled softly, trying to keep himself in check. It would be bad if he smelled mint now, in this small enclosed space, and in the middle of nowhere. 

Kuroo pulled back after a few moments, a plastic water bottle in hand. “Drink some water,” 

Kenma took the bottle, being careful to avoid touching Kuroo’s fingers. He twisted it open, relieved when he heard it pop from being unsealed. He brought it to his lips and gulped. His throat was relieved of its dryness and he sighed after finishing half its contents. 

“Feel better?” Kuroo asked, holding out his hand for the bottle. 

He gave it back. “It's hot,” he said, leaning forward in his seat, undoing the seatbelt and shrugging off Kuroo's coat. The heaters were doing their job a little bit _too_ well. Kuroo gulped audibly.

“Open the window a bit then. You can see the city from here. It's a pretty good view,” he said.

Kenma obliged and opened the window. The cold air hit his face and he recoiled back inside while Kuroo chuckled softly. He grunted and brought Kuroo's coat to his face, using it as a muffler for his nose while sticking his head out. It smelled like chocolate, and he could really go for a cup of hot cocoa right now. Hot cocoa with a view.

And this view _was_ good. 

There, it was no longer dark. Sitting amidst a valley was the glittering city Kenma grew up in. Gathered at the center he could recognize the familiar shapes of the A-block skyscrapers. Extending outward were the B-blocks, which were modest in comparison but hardly anything to scoff at, with their orderly streets and malls. He lived somewhere there now, among the subdivisions with Kuroo. He stopped paying attention to where this block and that block went, instead letting it all mix together, one big and sprawling landscape like a clump of jewels in the darkness. He hardly ever experienced the city like this; as an outsider removed from its context, as somebody who admired it more than feared it. He stayed transfixed until he remembered having to breathe again. 

“Pretty,” Kuroo said, causing Kenma to turn around and look at him. They made eye contact, and Kenma didn’t look away. He felt a strange tension between them, something pulling at his chest, settling at the back of his throat. 

“Kuro,” he said, almost an exhale. “Thanks,”

Kuroo's eyes widened, perplexed. “What for?” 

“You're nice,” Kenma whispered. He hoped Kuroo didn’t hear it, but he did. When he said that, it felt right; a puzzle sliding into place. And yet there was more waiting to be said, and he had an inkling of a feeling he wouldn’t be able to stop himself tonight. 

“You… you're being awfully honest tonight,” Kuroo said, voice deep, yet soft. He was leaning close, looking at him carefully. 

“Maybe,” Kenma replied, his face inches away from Kuroo's. Maybe he was and it was the alcohol's fault. His body was still warm and he could still taste the bitterness of beer in his mouth. Maybe he _was_ drunk because he knew on a normal day, he would have never said such things to Kuroo. Maybe...

...he wasn’t. 

He couldn’t be, when he was aware of the distance between them, and what the possibilities seemed endless for what was a few inches of space. He wasn’t drunk, but took little steps, touching Kuroo’s arm to tell him not to pull away as he asked: “Do you still want to kiss me, Kuro?” 

It hung in the air for seconds, and he wasn’t even sure if he had said it at all. He froze, wondering if he made a mistake, as with any of his choices in life. 

Kuroo was stunned. His lips were parted like he wanted to be honest too. Instead he sighed and rubbed his neck with a soft, pained hiss. He pulled away and shook his head. “Come on,” 

There was no backing out of it now, because Kuroo heard him, and Kenma wanted this choked-up feeling in his throat gone, gone for good. “Answer me, Kuro.” 

“Not like this, Kenma. You’re could be drunk,”

He could have ended it there, but he didn’t. “I’m not drunk.” He insisted, for reasons that were only gaining clarity now. 

“...Maybe you’re not, but I--”

“Either you kiss me now, or we forget I said anything.” And the feeling was dislodged from his throat. He exhaled, waiting for Kuroo’s answer, feeling his heart beating against his chest. 

Kuroo cursed, and cupped his cheek lightly, like he was glass, whispering to his ear, “you little brat,” before kissing him on the lips. He expected a rough follow-up; for their lips to crash into each other, for Kuroo to push him against the seat and be overwhelmed.

Yet time and time again, Kuroo proves to be unexpected in different ways. The kiss was chaste, surprisingly, so much that Kenma was left yearning more when Kuroo parted their lips.

“There,” he whispered, his breath against Kenma’s face. Their foreheads were pressed together, but he wasn’t looking at Kenma, and for some reason this annoyed him enough to wrap his arms around Kuroo’s neck and kiss him back. Kuroo kept their lips pressed together as drew back, tugging Kenma on the arm to cross over to the driver’ seat which he did with some maneuvering. Now he sat on Kuroo’s lap, just like earlier, only they were in a heated trance of kisses and groping and panting and moaning. It had dawned on him how long it had been since he kissed somebody; his lips felt clumsy and inexperienced, letting Kuroo take the lead. But he knew Kuroo liked it because he kissed him like he was mapping his lips, wanting to touch and nibble (yes there was nibbling, and he didn’t recoil) every part of him; his lips, his chin, and even his jawline, insatiable now that he had permission. Kenma was greedy in his own ways too: one hand had begun to wander down Kuroo’s chest, slipping inside his shirt, surprised at how hot his skin was. Kuroo shivered and sucked on his neck, eliciting a gasp from Kenma. Not one to lose, his large hands had wandered from Kenma’s arm to his hips, his fingers gripping as if to tell him _’stay put,’_ but Kenma didn’t need any of that, because he made his choice to stay there, and to keep touching. He was electrified with the sensations their touch gave. 

Their proxy was incomparable; it was never as hot, never as deliberate, and never with this much heavy breathing involved. At the back of Kenma’s mind he thought, how horrible it would be if they could never touch each other the same way ever again. He ignored it and sucked on Kuroo’s lower lip. Kuroo growled, biting on Kenma’s and he groaned in protest. _Too much._

He and Kuroo separated with a wet noise. They stared at each other with wide eyes filled with uncertainty and surprise. Kenma was panting like he had just run a marathon, having chased ‘happiness’ like Akaashi said. He couldn’t tell if it was truly happiness, but his chest felt like it would burst any moment now. It was painful. He didn’t want it to end. 

Kuroo pressed into him until his back was to the steering wheel. “Fucking hell, Kenma!” He growled before kissing his chin. “I’m not ready my ass, you kiss like you’re dying tomorrow!”

“Is that a problem?” He snapped, wondering why Kuroo would start something now. 

“No,” and Kenma felt his grin. 

“Then shut up. Kiss me again,” his demanding tone surprised himself. 

And Kuroo was too happy to oblige. They kept at their fervent kissing, this time Kenma felt less awkward, but he still let Kuroo take the lead. Then, he nibbled on Kenma’s lip again, followed by a kiss to where he bit. He hesitated but opened his mouth wider for Kuroo to slip his tongue inside. He moaned and felt the corners of Kuroo’s mouth twitch. He grunted and bit gently on his tongue. A thread of saliva connected their mouths as Kuroo pulled away with the most smuggish smirk he had ever seen. 

“Stop smirking,” Kenma said, covering Kuroo’s mouth with his hand. “You’re so ugly,” 

Kuroo, the absolute bastard he was, kept smirking against Kenma’s palm. “You sure? You were staring real hard at me earlier~” Then he licked, and Kenma shivered, smacking Kuroo in the face with his open palm. 

“Ow!” He hissed, holding his cheek. “What was that for?!”

“You licked me!”

“I’ve licked inside your mouth!”

“That’s not the point!”

“You little--” 

Just before Kuroo could grab him, Kenma jerked back into the steering wheel, his elbow hitting the car horn. The loud honk caused both of them to jump. Kuroo slipped his arm around the small of his back, pulling him away from touching the horn, and both their bodies close. 

Kenma covered his face as he snorted. “Um, sorry,” he mumbled into his wrist. 

Kuroo let out a breathless laugh, burying his face into Kenma. “My god,” he said. “You’re such a handful!”

Kenma hugged his head, exhaling as he relaxed. “But you can take it, right?” 

“Oh, I can take you over and over,” Kuroo growled, grinding their hips together. The look in his golden eyes was dark and full of intent; foreign to Kenma. Awareness hit him like a truck, how their hips were practically _grinding_ and how the car was filling with the scent of chocolate. 

“That’s--!” Kenma flinched before pushing him away.His hand flew to the back of his neck. His whole body had goosebumps crawling all over. God, he was tingling and he hated it. 

Kuroo’s cursed but it sounded as if it was directed at himself. He nudged Kenma off of him and he complied, returning to his seat with a hand pressed firmly to his nose. It didn’t help. 

Kuroo undid his seatbelt, muttering “gonna go cool off,” and opened the door. He got out and walked to the guard rails on Kenma’s side. He stopped there, running a hand through his hair and down his neck. 

Kenma watched him from inside, his knees close to his chest. He was half-hard. He threw his head back with a hiss, squeezing the edge of the car seat until it went away. It was difficult when Kuroo’s pheromones still hung in the air. 

He looked at Kuroo again. He was rubbing the sides of his arms and sneezing. He doubted his dress shirt provided much warmth, and he remembered how he slipped his own coat on Kenma a while ago. 

Akaashi’s words rang in his head: _I think Kuroo is a good person._

He didn’t have to wait until morning to confirm that.

Kenma had to, at the very least, return the favor. He opened the car door, already cursing at the biting cold as he held Kuroo’s bunched-up coat in his arms. He doubt that anyone’s body heat could last out here, let alone arousal. He was simultaneously grateful and resentful, because his fingers were already turning pink. Kuroo heard and turned towards him with a look of disbelief. His fingers weren’t much better off, just inches away from his face as he exhaled fog at them. 

“Here,” he handed over the coat. His breath making tiny puffs. “You forgot this,”

“Aww, for me?” He tried grinning, but it only seemed painful and forced. He took the coat, sighing with relief as he shrugged it on. “That’s considerate for a guy who slaps-”

Kuroo jumped out of the way before Kenma could kick him behind the knees. He laughed and stuck his tongue out, making childish gestures, and Kenma wondered how he could be so happy when it was so cold. He hugged his arms, shivering. Kuroo took notice, and pointed at the car. 

“Go back inside. You might catch a cold, Kenma,”

 _‘And what about you?_

It would be convenient to obey but returning to the car didn’t sound so appealing. Even if his fingers, ears, arms, and legs were stabbed by the cold, it felt better to be outside and freezing with Kuroo. 

It was a capricious decision on his part to walk up to Kuroo and wordlessly demand a space in his arms, given what had just happened. Call it intuition, but he didn’t feel… threatened. Kuroo stopped himself. He always did. It felt fair; it felt _right._

“Oya, what’s this?” Kuroo said as he let Kenma in. It felt like the arcade where he just fit so perfectly against Kuroo’s body. Kuroo’s chin found its place on Kenma’s head, pressing gently. Not teasingly like the other times, but just enough to let him know it was there to stay. 

“You hot-boxed the car with your pheromones,” Kenma told him, “so it’s not like I can stay there.”

“Eh? No way!” He sounded surprised. 

“Yes way,” he insisted.

“You’re just making up excuses so you can snuggle~” Kuroo teased. Kenma expected him to pinch his cheek or rub his head (not that he wanted him to) but hs noted how Kuroo’s hands remained firmly put in his coat pockets. 

“I’m not.”

“You are!”

“I’m not.”

“You totally are~” 

“You’re ruining the view right now,” Kenma grumbled. The glittering city. 

Kuroo sighed with satisfaction. So they stayed there, pressed against each other in the cold. It was stupid, they could just go back inside, but it didn’t hurt to do stupid things once in a while. Finally, Kuroo said something. 

“Sorry for earlier,” he said. “I got too into it,” 

“Just be careful next time,” he mumbled.

“Next time,” Kuroo repeated.

Kenma flushed. Next time. He allowed a next time. 

“Can I hug you?” His voice cracked and Kenma knew it wasn’t because it was cold. He could feel Kuroo’s heart beating fast. He pressed back without a word and Kuroo took the hint, slowly wrapping his arms around Kenma. It felt much better, much warmer. 

Then after a while, he spoke once more. “Can I kiss you again?” 

“Haven’t you had enough?” 

Kuroo shook his head, intentionally digging his chin on his head. “Nope~” He could _feel_ that grin forming. 

Kenma sighed just to annoy Kuroo and turned up his head. 

Kuroo pressed a kiss to his forehead. He pulled away after, leaving a feeling of disappointment in Kenma. His lips were tingling with a want to be pressed down. The air was cold, doing his moistened lips no favors. 

“You know what, Kenma?” Kuroo asked, looking quite suggestive. 

“...What.”

“You lose the bet~”

Kenma squinted. “How can you tell?”

“I can tell that I am _so_ sober right now.” He said with a boyish grin. Kenma held his breath. Various strings of thought entered his head and the rising temperature of his face felt like pressure to say something-- anything to quell the feeling. 

“You’re dumb,” he blurted out. “You’re dumb, and you’re ugly, and you’re-- you’re too tall!”

Kuroo frowned. “Huh?! Why are you coming at me like that? Are you mad you lost the bet?”

“I’m not mad,” he said, “I just don’t know how to… take that. _Thank you?_ Is that what I should say?” He resented his own awkwardness. What else could he have said? This was a first; everything was! 

Kuroo snorted. Then he laughed, his face on Kenma’s shoulder. “‘Thank you?’ Oh my god, you’re so weird and awkward, it’s really endearing!” 

“Freak,” Kenma scoffed. Because how could anyone get endeared by him? Only a freak would, and Kuroo was it. 

“Weirdo~” Kuroo snickered, poking his cheek.  
\---

Ever since he lost the power of alcohol, Kenma had spent the next few days avoiding Kuroo like the plague. Both to his relief and dismay, he remembered every single embarrassing detail of last night. How he asked-- no, _demanded_ Kuroo kiss him, and how he asked for hugs in the cold. He remembered how warm Kuroo’s skin was, how he even slipped his fingers under his shirt and how _firm_ his pecs were. That unbridled confidence of his had completely evaporated the second he woke up in his room the next morning, where he stayed cooped up in while agonizing over every single detail of that night. He grit his teeth and clenched his fists, willing the memories away, but it was no use. He wanted to forget but anything and everything he laid his eyes on was a reminder. Each object would slip into a train of thought en route to ‘we made out last night and I kind of liked it--’ 

He smacked his hands to his prickling face. Oh god. He liked it. It felt an enormous amount of pressure had been taken off his chest. 

He groaned, punching the mattress. It was soft and satisfying to hit, though it did nothing to lessen the heat on his face. Once tired, he laid flat over his bed, the weight of all his pillows piled on his head. The thoughts crept back in. 

_’We made out. Oh god, we really made out. I kind of liked it? I hate this. We made out. Why are you like this, Kozume Kenma?’_ The thought had him seething. 

Should he have texted Akaashi about it? Yes. 

Did he text Akaashi about it? No. 

Because when he woke up the morning after, Akaashi texted him that _he and Bokuto_ also made out (and nearly had sex). He was surprised, especially since it was Akaashi of all people, and he congratulated him. What else could he say? ‘Funny coincidence Akaashi, I also made out with my fake-boyfriend! We also nearly had sex, too!’ He could never reach that level of obnoxiousness. 

Kuroo could, probably. 

Kuroo.

They made out. Fuck!

Did he tell Bokuto? Because Bokuto doesn’t seem like he could keep a secret. 

_Oh shit._

He thrust himself out of the bed and, shaking the pillows off. He snuck downstairs, peering behind the corner to check for Kuroo. He was in the kitchen, stirring something in a pot. It smelled like miso soup. Kuroo’s rolled up sleeves exposed his arms, the arms that held Kenma. 

Was he being punished in hell right now? Certainly, because he felt as if he were being baked alive.

Kuroo turned off the stove and pulled out his phone. He sighed and sent a text. Kenma’s phone buzzed in his pocket. It was unnecessary, because Kuroo heard the buzz and raised a hand awkwardly. 

“Uh, hey. So, lunch is ready,” 

Kenma nodded, not quite meeting his face. 

“I’ll go up,” 

He nodded again. 

“...Are we okay?” Kuroo asked, an tone of uncertainty to his voice. 

He both shook and nodded his head. 

“What? Is it a yes, or a no?” 

Kenma swallowed. He forced the words out. “Did you tell anyone?” His heart was racing in the bad way. 

He shook his head. “I didn’t, don’t worry.”

He sighed with relief and emerged from the corner. “Okay,” he mumbled. 

“Are we good? Come eat lunch with me,” 

He nodded and sat down on the table. They ate lunch, and it was quiet. Kuroo was periodically checking his phone as it buzzed on the table and Kenma was staring daggers at it. He noticed, and reassured him it wasn’t because he told Bokuto anything.

“It’s about an exhibition game,” he said. “The national team has a practice match with France tomorrow, and Bokuto said he and Akaashi can’t go because of work. He’s offering the seats to me instead. Want to come?” 

Kenma shrugged. “That’s alpha sports. I can’t watch even if I wanted to,” A beta sports game he could, but alpha sports were restricted mostly to bonded omegas who wouldn’t be affected as much by scent. Despite that, they’d have to sit at the far edges of the sports center, so it was a better alternative to wait for the broadcast. He wasn’t invested in any sport, but he heard it was like that from Shouyou, who was into a couple sports himself.

“Kenma,” Kuroo whined. “You keep forgetting you have me, now!” 

That was true, but alpha sports were famous for their intensity. Some games could even influence betas, though they were a rare occurrence. Still, the idea of being riled up while others competed for you had its appeal to others. Not to Kenma, though. “The pheromones would be insane,” he said. Attending a live alpha sports competition sent his stomach into a tight knot. 

Occasionally he’d hear news of alphas getting into big arguments which would escalate into brawls. Sometimes it ended in hospitalizations or suspension of matches and players.

Then a thought hit him. 

Kuroo was making medicine for alphas; something that controlled their pheromones, if he were to make an assumption. Now there was a convenient match happening, and this was to test it out, perhaps? Seeing how it would unfold, and the fact Kuroo would be there if anything were to happen, he decided the rewards outweigh the risks. Well, he’d still have to take some precautions himself. Pills and patches. It’s been a while since he needed those.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go.” 

Kuroo smiled warmly. “Great!” 

Kenma felt his stomach flutter. He looked away. 

“This counts as your punishment by the way~ I told you I was sober!” He gloated, sticking out his tongue. 

“Ugh, shut it,” Kenma muttered. The awkwardness he felt about Kuroo disappeared when he showed this side of his. It was rubbing off on him.  
\----

“We’re here,” Kuroo said, turning off the car’s engine. He unlocked the door. “You’ll be fine like that, right?” 

Kenma nodded. He was wearing a thick mask covering the lower half of his face. He asked Shouyou for advice regarding events like this, and he suggested something to cover reduce the amount of pheromones he could smell, since he had attended something like this once. He warned him to try and keep calm or else he could let his pheromones out. He also wore his patches (noting how Kuroo’s eye twitched when he smelled it this morning) and had a container of pills tucked in his pocket. 

They got out of the car. He hadn’t thought much of them making out in the same car when the anxiety of entering an A-block was overriding such thoughts. The sports center was massive and shining, taking up the full perimeter of the lot. 

Kuroo placed his arm on his shoulder, finding its usual place. “You look fine,” he said reassuringly. “Come on,”

Kenma exhaled. Kuroo and his timing. It was a comfort now, and he leaned closer to his touch. As he did, he caught a whiff of chocolate, which was strange considering Kuroo’s pheromones only showed up moments when he was more… excited. Was he excited? He peered at Kuroo’s face and found it much more tense than usual. Gone was the casual half-lidded gaze, replaced by a more focused stare at the sports center. His jaw was clenched hard, and even his body felt more stiff than usual, like he was holding a mannequin instead. 

Without a word, Kuroo walked towards the entrance with him in tow. Kenma swallowed, nervousness creeping up again. He pressed closer until their hips were almost touching. They weren’t the only ones who had shown up to spectate. Surrounding Kenma were crowds, mostly betas, but a large concentration of alphas as well. A couple of people shot him odd looks and Kenma wanted to hurl. It smelled sickening, even with his face mask on; a mixture of excited pheromones emanating from different alphas confined to one space. In response, Kuroo held onto him tighter as if to say “you’ll be fine, I’m right here,” and in turn, Kenma tried quelling his unease. It helped when he spotted a couple of smaller-looking people, which he assumed to be omegas like him. 

Then, a strong and sharp scent his his nose. He stopped dead in his tracks. His hand flew to his nose, slipping under the mask. He gasped, and he could even _taste_ in the air the bittersweet of Kuroo’s pheromones. He never had it quite like this. He gripped the back of Kuroo’s shirt, but there was no response. Kuroo simply walked on, the crowd parting like the sea. People’s heads were turned away, not in disgust but out of respect. 

He almost forgot that Kuroo could do that. He remembered the first shirt Kuroo had lent him and how overwhelming it was to his senses. But this was a different force altogether; Kuroo’s exuded his scent like he was actively trying to overpower anyone in the vicinity. With each alpha they encountered who didn’t already have their heads turned away, Kuroo would shoot them a look which sent them looking away, or scoffing. 

Kenma swallowed. He knew what this was. He was being _protected_ in case anyone were to try. Slowly, he released his nose and took slow breaths, trying to get himself accustomed to this bitterness, and Kuroo’s silence. He couldn’t look up. But he could touch Kuroo’s hand on his shoulder, which relaxed the alpha for some reason. 

“Hey,” he whispered. 

“Show-off,” Kenma muttered. He wanted to kick him for attracting so much attention to them. 

“Heh, you know it. Can’t embarrass myself in front of my boyfriend~” He smirked. 

Kenma _really_ wanted to kick him for saying that. It felt like somebody had explained a joke to him. He understood, but it didn’t make it funny. He just got reminded they were only fake-boyfriends, and Kuroo was only playing his part. 

_Would it make you happy if it was real, then?_

There was a stirring in his chest. He pushed the thought out of his mind, out of his lungs. He focused on Kuroo’s scent, and he slowly adjusted to it, though the bitterness was a bit much. 

After passing the crowd, they found their seats facing the lateral portion of the court. They were pretty good seats, offering a clear and unobstructed view of the game. None of the players have shown up yet, and from the time on his phone, they still had a couple minutes left before the warm-ups began. Kenma observed a couple of machines at every few feet lining the area that looked like metal traffic poles with vents running up their surface. They rotated slowly, making low humming noises. 

“Scent absorbers,” he mumbled, turning to Kuroo. He’s heard of those things, but they were pricey machines, nothing that belonged to a normal store or anything. 

“Yeah,” he answered. “They make sure the guys sitting closest to the court don’t get a whiff of the pheromones. They’re fairly effective, but they won’t get rid of all scents since some of it wafts up, but that’s what vents are for,” he said, pointing at the ceiling. Large vents, as he said.

He hummed. “I bet people still get affected,”

“They’re not fool-proof, and with the intensity of some matches and the fact everyone’s been sweating and cheering, fights could still break out,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “Still, people go because it gets intense in the good way, y’know? Let me tell you, a live volleyball match is way more intense than a recorded one.” He checked his watch. “God, I wish they’d start already,”

“Who are they against?” Kenma asked. He squirmed when somebody sat beside him. A beta. Kuroo put his arm around his chair and Kenma leaned into him. 

“France, I think. This’ll be exciting since they have Earvin Deguirre and I’ve seen that guy play live a few years back. He’s this insane wing spiker,” he started, going on about such and such players of the French Roosters, all of whom Kenma didn’t know, but his descriptions kept him interested enough. Then he went on about the Japanese team, Ryujin Nippon, and how they were really promising. 

“Especially since they have the Miya twins. Those two are synchronized beasts on court. They cover each other flawlessly, but eh,” he snorted, “they get into fights sometimes and it really messes up the tempo of the team.” 

It was beginning to make sense why Kuroo disliked fighting now. He liked volleyball, and fighting messes up the game. Kenma kept listening to him go on until the players made their appearance. Kenma held his breath seeing the impossibly tall foreigners lined up on the sides of the court. They were built like brick walls, muscles bulging from their shirts. 

“That’s Deguirre,” Kuroo pointed at a dark-skinned #9 who wore red arm sleeves matching their red uniform. It looked fitting for a team called Roosters. Ryujin Nippon wore black. Most of their players were shorter compared to the French, though only by a few inches at most. Still, they carried themselves with composure, like the calm before a storm. 

Once the warm-ups began, they both fell silent, focused intently on the players and their movements. Kuroo was right; seeing it live was different from a recording. It felt more spectacular seeing every spike and toss unfold, every loud smack of the ball hitting the opposite court ringing in his ears. He periodically reminded himself not to get too excited, especially since the seats were filling up with other people. 

Finally, they began the game. The captains used a coin toss to determine who served first. France won, starting with their #4. He did a jump serve, smacking the ball so hard Kenma almost missed it as a Ryujin #2 received the ball, sending it flying into the air towards a blonde #7 waiting by the net. The ball connected, disappearing in a flash from his fingertips as he sent it across the net, spiked by a gray-haired #11 into the opposite court. Right off the bat it began an intense rally between the Roosters and Ryujins, neither side willing to give up the point to the other. 

Kenma’s heart raced as he could barely keep up with the ball shooting from one end to the other. He couldn’t tell who would win; the Roosters with their solid formation and receives, or the Ryujins with their persistent attacks. The crowd went wild the longer it went on, yelling and cheering names as they received. At last, the Ryujins broke through with a very well-earned first point, sending everyone into a wild frenzy. Kenma covered his ears and Kuroo pumped his fist. 

“Nicely done,” he snickered. “The Miya twins are at the top of their game today,”

“Which one are they?” Kenma asked. 

“#7 and #11. #7 is the main setter of the team and #11 is a wing spiker. You saw how fast that first quick set was earlier?” 

Kenma hummed appreciatively. “I couldn’t see at first,” he admitted. 

“It’s their crazy synchronization thing going on. You’ll adjust to the ball soon. You okay?”

Kenma pat his face mask. “Yeah,” he replied. He couldn’t smell much, just a couple whiffs of pheromones which passed as quickly as he’d pick them up. He sniffed the collar of his shirt, feeling a twinge of worry when he could pick up mint. He shifted closer to Kuroo, who accommodated him. His body was warm and Kenma focused his gaze on the court, keeping unnecessary thoughts at bay. 

The score was now at 1-1, with the Roosters easily gaining back a point with a cross-court spike. The ball hit the very edge of the court line, making the Ryujin players hesitate to receive it. The crowd around them groaned. 

They would get fired up later on as the Ryujins picked up the pace of their attacks, sending spike after spike at the Roosters. Keeping their wits above them, the French team anticipated their trajectory, returning the favor with unorthodox methods courtesy of Deguirre. The French player had a knack for returning balls facing _away_ from the net which let blockers to underestimate his accuracy. He could also dish out powerful and accurate spikes from behind the attack line, which Kenma hadn’t seen from the Kamigawa games. Not only that but he could set too, which threw off the blockers when he’d pass a set which seemed meant for him to a player on the other side of the net. The score was at 12-11, the Roosters winning.

“Kuro,” Kenma said, tugging on his shirt. He didn’t need to say anything more for Kuroo to understand. 

“Yeah, he’s crazy,” he said with a grin. “He’s got a full arsenal, perfect control of his own body and the ball,”

“That’s amazing,” Kenma said. Kuroo rubbed his haid, and he grunted. “Stop,” 

“Hehe, I’m just glad to see you appreciating sports, you little introvert~” 

“Don’t expect me playing anytime soon,” Kenma muttered. 

“I wouldn’t, I don’t think your brittle bones could take it,”

“Shut it…” 

“Oh, there goes Ushijima!” Kuroo said, pointing excitedly at the Ryujin side. Ushijima was their #1. Kenma had noted he was an extremely powerful and reliable spiker with the capability of blasting through blocks. He imagined bone snapping as the ball smacked against the floor. Brute strength. But that wasn’t all there was to him. Even from afar, he could tell from his dignified stance that Ushijima was an incredibly serious person. When he scored, he didn’t cheer or pump his fist, nor did he attempt any chest bumps of high fives. He was like a rock, so overwhelmingly stable. 

“Oikawa hates that guy,” Kuroo commented with a snicker. “We always played against their team when we were in college, and Ushijima said he should have come to their school instead. It pissed Oikawa the _hell_ off and now,” he said, his tone shifting to sound like regret, “he’s on the national team, and Oikawa’s not playing anymore. Funny how that works, huh?” Kuroo paused, and pinched Kenma’s nose. “Forget I said that, look,” he pointed again. 

The Ryujins had broken through a rally, evening out the scores. The crowd went wild and so did some of the Ryujin players, meeting the intensity of their fans. Even Ushijima managed a small wave at the crowd, sending them into a frenzy with a small gesture. 

Kenma grunted again, holding his ears. They hurt, and he wanted it to settle back down again. Despite that, his heart was racing in his chest as he watched the game unfold. In the end, the Roosters took the first set, 27-25. The spectators on their side groaned, some shouting and bits of profanity thrown about but it dissipated as they changed court. 

Then, in the air, the trace of an unfamiliar stench that sent Kenma’s stomach churning. He looked around for the source, finding it nowhere amongst the spectators. Instead, his eyes fell onto the benches where the Ryujins huddled around, listening to their coach. It smelled like ashes and rosemary; a strange combination, and unpleasantly foreign, like an affront to the chocolate he knew. The scent agitated some alpha members of the crowd as well; Kenma noticed some heckling and sounds of chairs being hit.

“Kenma,” Kuroo murmured against his head. 

“I’m fine,” He swallowed thickly. “How the hell can I smell it from here?” They were a good distance away from the court and he had a face mask on, too!

“That’s the Miya twins for you,” he sighed. “Their pheromonal output is crazy. They’re pretty infamous for it, since anything can set them off during a match. Sometimes even if they win a set, one of the twins would start a fight, and it ends with one or the other getting benched,”

Just as he said, a fight indeed break out. The blonde #7 had an outburst they could only hear snippets of from where they sat. Something along the lines of slow spiking, or poor blocking. Then he grabbed the shirt of the gray-haired #11. Now they were still instead of moving on court, Kenma saw how similar their faces and physique were. 

“Ah, it’s Atsumu picking the fight this time,” Kuroo commented snidely. “Perfectionist brat, I wonder how Osamu’ll deal with it,”

Kenma wanted blood to happen, but Kuroo would probably call him a freak if he said that. 

“I hope they punch each other’s lights out,” he snickered. 

Ah, so he was the same. Kenma chuckled, and Kuroo squeezed his shoulder. 

The rest of the team had backed away from the arguing twins. Kuroo sat up, looking intrigued. Atsumu (or Osamu?), well, the blonde #7 was shouting while #11 was responsive, but not with the same intensity. He seemed… perfectly calm, given the circumstances. He didn’t know how it went with sibling alphas, but he could assume they’d be quite in tune with each other. In the back of his mind, he was urging #11 to respond to #7 with a punch or a blow, but it never happened. #11 kept his cool until #7 backed down, his team literally holding him back from his own brother, kicking and growling.

The crowd had silenced. Then, murmurs. 

_Did you see that? Osamu didn’t fight back! What’s going on? Is he having an off day?_ As well as some other complaints of wanting to see some violent action happening. What the hell do these people get out of alpha sports? To see people punching each other? Shouldn’t they go watched boxing instead? And what was with the players themselves? Specifically the blonde setter and his twin; how often do they end up brawling on court that the fans are surprised when they don’t?

His question was unanswered as the murmurs remained while the teams changed court. The Ryujin members acted like a wall between the twins, separating them. 

The tension between their team disappeared as they entered the court once again. This time, the blonde setter was serving first. The bleachers went silent as if in anticipation. As if channeling all his anger into the shot, Atsumu Miya jumped high and struck the ball, slamming it into a tight spot between the Roosters, earning them the first service ace of the game. The crowd exploded and Kenma covered his ears. Kuroo himself looked irked at the noise. 

Atsumu served again. It was splendidly received, sending it up to their setter. Three spikers were running for the net. He tossed. The ball flew up, passing over two players until it was spiked by a #12. The ball smacked against the Ryujin blockers, falling to the court.

The spectators roared again, and this time Kenma could smell the intensity of their excitement. It hung thick in the air despite the vents, and he couldn't help but feel a rush himself.

“Serve and block,” he said.

Kuroo beamed. “You remember!”

Caught off guard, Kenma fought back a blush. “So what?” He stammered. 

Kuroo made an amused noise and pulled him closer. He didn't move away, settling into his body. He sighed, feeling tension in his body unwind. Was it strange to feel so calm while everyone around them was so pumped up? 

The game continued, and the Ryujins took the set back with moderate ease, ending at 25 - 22. The stadium erupted, and Kenma's vision swirled. He was starting to regret this. His heart felt like it was trying to beat out of his chest, and his lungs squeezed of air. He lurched forward, hearing a comment: “looks like the omega couldn't handle it, huh?” 

He forced himself up to his feet. “Bathroom,” he muttered at Kuroo, waving a hand to tell him to stay. He made his way out of the stadium and back at the hallway where he spotted a vending machine. He felt relieved to be free from all the noise and smell, and to be touching the pills as he dug in his pocket, searching for his wallet. As he did, he flinched hearing a couple of footsteps along the hall. Two deep voices discussing the game. Alphas. 

He froze. 

Kuroo wasn’t here. 

His fingers fumbled with the change, struggling to fit it in the slot. His heart was racing again, and he tried taking deep breaths but it only turned into frantic hyperventilation. The alphas were approaching, his breathing catching their attention. The 100-yen coin finally fit into the slot, sliding in with a loud noise that made Kenma bite his lip. 

They were coming closer, definitely staring at him now. Kenma hesitated before the vending machine, all the drink choices lit. The alphas’ conversation stopped as they got close. Kenma slowly turned his head towards them, already preparing to flee. 

To his surprise, they took one look at him, a brief sniff, before continuing along, edging around him. He stared in confusion before sniffing his sleeve. He missed the bitterness Kuroo put out earlier when he was in the stadium mixed with the other smells. So that was the power of a proxy. He imagined it like a giant ‘aggro’ zone around him that enemies avoided lest they were to suffer damage. He liked the idea more when he put it like that, his chest swelling a bit. 

Kenma got his water, and looked for a bathroom. There was one for omegas down the hall, and he slipped inside and into a stall. Sitting on the toilet, he checked his phone for an heat-tracker app. He was fortunate enough to have his regularly according to the app, and his next one was a few days away. However, ever since he had been with Kuroo and the first time he got caught off guard with an early heat, he swore never to get caught in a situation like that again. He sighed, taking out the pills from his pocket. 

These were the generic, over-the-counter heat and pheromone suppressants. They worked in a short amount of time and were quite effective, meant to be taken during right before or during the heat itself. However, special cases could apply when there is a significant pheromonal reaction, which he thought applied right now. 

There was a compromise, though. Since the medicine wasn’t precisely measured out, and every omega had different reactions and pheromone levels, he could risk an overdose, which wasn’t as lethal as it sounded, but it could mess up his hormones, throwing off his heat cycle. It was no pheromone regulator (those treatments were expensive) which actively reduced reactions, so the pills were more akin to slapping duct tape over a hole. It worked now, but not forever. Relying on the pills could make one’s body stressed out, manifesting in side effects such as nausea, weak appetite, and less immunity to disease since it suppressed some brain functions. Not only that, but relying on suppressants was generally frowned upon by omegas because they could result in random heat attacks as the body needed to release pheromones eventually.

He didn’t want to risk that. He remembered Kuroo gripping his hips that night and he pushed the image away. 

_‘What a pain,_ he thought, his phone in one hand and the pills in the other. He never realized just how much he wanted to get back in there and watch the game with Kuroo. But the stadium was going wild and he Would it work if he took half a tablet? Would the effects get reduced? Could it still interfere with his schedule? He felt impatient being unable to come up with an answer, because he could hear excited shouts all the way in the bathroom. 

Damn, he really wanted to return to the game. 

“Fuck it,” he muttered, shoving the pills back into his pocket. He could deal with it. He just needed some air, that was all. 

He returned to his seat moments later, handing Kuroo the bottle of water. 

“How sweet of you,” he snickered, earning him a glare from Kenma which he chuckled at. Kuroo opened the bottle and gulped down half its content. Kenma briefly thought of an indirect kiss if he had decided to take medicine back then, which he snapped out of his head. “The third set’s starting in a few,” Kuroo told him, pointing at the court being wiped by cleaners. 

Kenma nodded and sat down. The teams were huddled around their coaches, discussing strategies and formations. He turned to Kuroo. 

“Earlier,” he said, pulling down his face mask. “There were two alphas outside,”

Kuroo tensed visibly. He snarled. “Why didn’t you text me? I could have gotten you,” 

Kenma tensed for a second before shaking his head. “You didn’t have to. The proxy worked.” 

Kuroo sighed, relaxing again. “Good,” he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I think that got me riled up,” 

He only nodded. He hadn’t realized how much time they had spent in safer areas like the house or public spaces, but now they were in a confined stadium filled with alphas, the proxy was proving itself, but not with its effects on them both. 

_‘If we mated, it might not be as bad,’_

Kenma practically slapped his own face as he covered it up with his sleeves. 

_”Oh, I can take you over and over,”_ he remembered Kuroo growling those words into his ear. He swallowed hard, trying not to think about that, focusing at the players filling the court through his open fingers instead. It didn’t work. He squeezed his face, sighing heavily as the thoughts consumed him. 

It wasn’t until Kuroo shot up and cheered with the crowd that Kenma got pulled out of his head. Miya (gray) had smashed through the opponent’s block, ending a long rally and pulling the score to 4-3, Ryujins ahead. The full stench of the stadium only hit him then, and he recoiled, wondering how the other omegas were faring. They would have been bonded if they stood a chance. 

Dammit, he should focus on the game. He looked at Kuroo who was yelling with excitement, cheering on the Ryujins. His eyes were bright and that boyish look to him had come back, the same face that broke through all of Kenma’s defenses. The fierce heat returned to his face and he could only gape at the alpha who only had his eyes on the game. Kenma didn’t care about that anymore. What he cared about right now was for Kuroo to look down and see what he had done; because a quaint realization had begun to creep up on Kenma, one that he’d never thought would happen to him in a hundred years. He wanted Kuroo’s attention away from the game to confirm if they were on the same page; if the thought of kissing each other was eating Kuroo up on the inside, too. 

_‘Don’t look there, look at me, you bastard. Look at what you’ve done. I’m a fucking mess. This is your fault.’_ He scoffed to himself. _‘Stop smiling and suffer with me.’_

Could he really call it suffering, though? The answer was a resounding ‘yes’ in his head. He was stuck here, his face hot and uncomfortable, hundreds of thoughts running through his head; justifications for and against his own feelings. It was taxing, and he wanted it to stop, because his heart was racing even though he was seated, even if all he was doing was looking at Kuroo, who finally looked at him. 

“You look sick,” he said, kneeling down and pressing a handpressing against Kenma’s forehead. 

“You look sick, should we go home?” He asked, a touch of concern in his voic to his forehead. 

“You're pretty hot,”

 _‘No, you. No, wait--’_ Kenma froze in place, his skin prickling as Kuroo touched him. 

It wasn't his heat doing this. He knew because the feeling was concentrated at his face alone. And if it were, he'd be feeling aroused. But he wasn't. He was hot, flustered, and his chest felt painful. The kind he didn't want to end because it burned in his sternum just right.

“Should we skip the game instead?” He asked, looking concerned. “We'll pick up some fever medicine on the way,”

Kenma shook his head. _‘Stop. Stop being so nice. I’m helpless when you do this.’_

“I'm fine,” he said through grit teeth. 

“Sure? You look like shit right now,”

“ _You_ look like shit,” he retorted. 

Kuroo brushed a hand through his fringe, rolling his eyes. “ _Wow,_ I'm being considerate here, you little brat,”

“Just watch the game. I'll be fine,” he insisted. Little brat, he said, just before they kissed. His mind was a mess; he came here to figure things out and watch volleyball, not to feel like _this._

Kuroo grunted, relenting. He sat beside Kenma, periodically glancing at him. 

\---  
The game ended with the Ryujins winning, 28 - 26. The teams thanked the audience for their participation, after which everyone began heading out. Kenma was relieved it had finally ended. Now the excitement had died down, he could breathe better. 

Kuroo pulled out his phone, staying on the bleachers. He hummed, sounding unamused, raising his brow at a text. “Looks like we’ll be hanging around,” he said. “Work-related,” his tone sounding like a warning. 

Kenma ignored it. He hummed in acknowledgment. Then, without realizing how much all that pheromonal exposure had taken its toll on him, he yawned. 

“Oya oya? Looks like my little kitten’s sleepy~” He snickered. 

That knocked the sleep out of him. He blinked at the (literal) pet name, letting his jaw drop slightly. His mind was blank. 

“Hey, I was kidding! I was just kidding!” He could hear the rising panic in Kuroo’s voice as he playfully tousled his hair. “A-anyways, let’s get out of here,” he said, standing up and offering him a hand. 

Kenma nodded, thoughtlessly taking it. His hand was warm, and so was Kenma’s whole body. Suddenly he was grateful Kuroo was so tall, because he could just lower his head to hide his face. They didn’t let go of each other’s hand as they left the bleachers, continuing down the hallway. It wasn’t until they were near the entrance when an old man in a tracksuit approached them. He had gray hair, swept back to show his full face marked with lines of age, prominent eyebrows slanted into a perpetual glare which had Kenma hiding behind Kuroo. Although he was stooped and wiry, shorter than Kenma himself, he felt much taller, more intimidating. As people aged, their pheromonal output lessened, but Kenma didn’t need to know this old man was an alpha. 

“Good afternoon, Coach Washijo,” Kuroo bowed low, exposing Kenma who frantically bowed after him. “My name is Kuroo Tetsurou, head researcher of Nekomata Pharmaceuticals,”

“I’ve heard,” he said, rubbing his chin contemplatively. “You’re the one who took over Yasufumi’s research, correct?” 

Kuroo nodded. “It was an honor to finish his work,”

“Impressive it was, your new medicine. We’ve seen the results.”

“Thank you, sir. It won’t let you down. The treatment ” he bowed again. Kenma didn’t think this was the same guy who panicked over calling him ‘kitten’ earlier. Gone was Kuroo’s languid movements. Now he moved stiffly, responding almost mechanically to the old man. 

The smell hit Kenma first. Ashes and rosemary. He cupped over his face mask, spotting the twins walking up to their coach. They hadn’t changed from their uniforms, and with two of them having almost identical smells, Kenma felt nauseated. His brain was screaming at him it was wrong, and it was different from Kuroo, and he should leave right now. He pinched his brows. 

“Is that your boyfriend?” One of the Miya twins asked.

“Yeah, he is. We watched the game, you guys were amazing,” Kuroo answered.

“Heh, it was probably thanks to you,” another Miya twin said. “I felt really chill, even though I wanted to punch ‘Tsumu’s teeth out,” 

“That’s wonderful. Then I assume you two are on board?” Kuroo asked. Kenma could imagine a fake smile on his face. 

“It’s been a promising week, just a pain to deal with the checkups. But since it got us through against France, we’re in,” 

“Hold your horses,” Washijo said, clapping for their attention. Kenma looked up, but then pressed his face against Kuroo’s back. God, it was like a pocket of oxygen, his smell. “We can’t rush into this deal yet. We’re searching for long term side-effects,” 

“Ah,” Kuroo coughed politely, “I assure you, nothing our pharmacovigilance haven’t already warned you about,” 

Kenma could only stand behind Kuroo for so long before he felt he needed _more_ pheromones. He shifted his feet, and Kuroo seemed to have taken notice. 

“Would that be all, coach Washijo?” 

The old man hummed. “Yes, it should suffice for now. I’ll contact you for any other questions in the future.”

They ended it there, with Kuroo excusing them first. Kenma held his breath until he heard the sports center’s doors swing closed behind them before releasing a breath, pulling down his mask to inhale the clear air. How he missed it. 

“Shit,” Kuroo hissed, his head turned back at the stadium. “I panicked like hell back there,” 

That was panicking? Kenma gave him an odd look. Well, he was as stiff as a board. He didn’t try to provoke them, seeing their valuable to Kuroo’s product. Poster boys, or maybe something like that. Akaashi had something to do with marketing, so the loose connections made sense.

“Yeah, you heard all that stuff, huh? So much for legalities,” he snorted. “I couldn’t send you away because _Washijo_ was there. _The_ coach Washijo! Guy’s a legend,” he said, going on about how the other half of the Ryujin coach duo handpicked physically formidable players and polished them into perfection. Ushijima was the prime example of that; he was world-famous apparently, for his powerful spikes and everlasting calmness. Kenma didn’t care so much about that than the fact he knew just a bit more details on Kuroo’s work. It was alright in the end, but he wouldn’t do it again, anytime soon. Perhaps if he had better ways of dealing with strangers’ pheromones. 

“Come on,” Kuroo said as he slung his arm over Kenma’s shoulder, and the omega immediately pressed close, feeling relieved to be with his boyfriend. 

He felt lightheaded on the way back, and he didn’t want to be parted from Kuroo, a twist in his gut while he started the car. Kenma got in the front seat, staring at the alpha intently. Kuroo looked uncomfortable at his gaze, scratching his cheek. 

“What’s wrong, Kenma?” 

“Pheromones,” he mumbled. His body moved on its own, climbing over into his seat. Kuroo was too surprised to protest, raising his hands as Kenma buried his face into his chest. He breathed in and out slowly, savoring his sweet scent. All his worries about seeming weird melted away; he just wanted to stay like this, to get rid of the other alphas’ pheromones he had been exposed to. Ashes and rosemary was slowly melting away, and he pressed closer to Kuroo’s neck. The alpha swallowed hard, touching Kenma’s head, stroking the back gently. 

“Oya, what’s this?” There was hesitation in his voice. “Why’re you suddenly so affectionate?” 

Kenma decided he needed more pheromones, and what Kuroo had right now wasn’t going to cut it. He needed it like that night; to fill up the car and replenish him. 

“Kuro, kiss,” Kenma ordered, pulling his face away from the alpha’s neck. 

“Sure,” he said without hesitation, kissing him on the lips. His lips were soft, but slightly chapped. Kenma got what he wanted; a burst of pheromones coming from Kuroo. Not so much from himself when he still had patches on. After spending moments with their lips pressed together, Kuroo pulled Kenma away from him with a wet noise, gasping for breath. “Wait, wait, wait-- Wait a mo-- _Huh?!_ ” His face looked so perplexed that Kenma had to bite his tongue from laughing. A blush spread across his face, the look which satisfied Kenma. “Huh? Kiss?” he repeated, shaking Kenma’s shoulders. He could feel Kuroo’s body heat through his fingertips. 

“Why’re you so weird about it,” Kenma told him, fighting back the blush from appearing on his face. He wanted more pheromones, that was his excuse if Kuroo asked any more than he needed to. Not that Kenma would let him, because he went close to Kuroo and pecked him on the lips. “We’re boyfriends, right?” 

Kuroo groaned, “oh my god,” 

Kenma felt a stab of disappointment. He moved to go back to his seat, intending on strangling himself with the seatbelt. Kuroo made him stay put. 

“Wait, I just-- this isn’t the time and place! We’re in a parking lot!” 

“Oh,” Kenma said, his mouth a small ‘o’ shape. “I got worried,”

“What, you think I don’t want to kiss you?” Kuroo asked, looking offended at the idea. 

Kenma’s face flared up. “Shut up,” was his response to that. 

“Shut me up yourself,” Kuroo smirked, challenging him. 

“That’s enough now,” Kenma said, slipping back to the front seat. He strapped himself in, looking at the very deflated and _disappointed_ Kuroo to start the car. He felt good seeing him like that, because Kenma felt like he had repaid the favor from earlier when he was suffering over his emotions during the game. It was nothing in comparison, but Akaashi did say ‘little steps’. (He knew he used that advice wrongly, but he couldn’t help it.) Kuroo rolled his eyes, starting the car. Kenma was relieved. The car roaring to life helped disguise the loud beating of his heart. 

“You are just like a kitten,” Kuroo told him, pulling out of the driveway. 

Kenma hummed. He thought ‘kitten’ suited him more than ‘brat’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I am BACK! Thank you for waiting! I had a LOT of fun writing this chapter, it's so indulgent jkdhkfh IT NEARLY TOOK US 100K BUT THEY FINALLY KISSED!! 
> 
> While I was away, I just want you guys to know that I have read your comments, and they give me so much life ;^; I'm sorry I didn't reply, but I promise I will since I have time, now :D I made sure to make this chapter extra packed because I hate making you guys wait~
> 
> Also some notes:  
> 1) I made a mistake in the previous chapter where I exchanged the Miya twins. It's Osamu (gray) who gets the treatment, not Atsumu! (blonde) This chapter was written according to that correction. It's been edited now!  
> 2) Roosters/Ryujin Nippon are both the official Fr/Jp national volleyball team names because I couldn't come up with any original ones. Deguirre is also very heavily based on Earvin N'Gapeth after I watched this really cool compilation on yt for reference haha


	20. New Discoveries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's some consequences Kenma has to deal with. Because of Kuroo, he discovers new things about himself, and how it changes their relationship.

_‘Am I pregnant?’_

The thought crossed Kenma’s mind as he retched into the toilet. It was all acid, no food. It left an acrid taste on his tongue and he groaned, heaving over the bowl again. 

Impossible. 

They haven’t had sex yet. Unless he could get pregnant by kissing alone, there was no way. 

He vomited again, his head spinning. His throat burned and he was salivating like a dog in the bathroom. His whole body felt weak; his skin was clammy and his head weighed like a bag of rocks. 

Kuroo knocked on the door. “Kenma?” He opened it and stepped inside. “Holy shit,” he hurried over, concern marking his face. “I’ll get water,” he said, hurrying back out. Kuroo returned with a glass of cold water, which Kenma gulped down, soothing his burning throat a bit. He felt the weight of his body like lead as he tried hauling himself to his feet. Kuroo supported him, before easily picking him up off the ground. Normally he’d protest to being carried like that, but not when he felt this weak. Something smelled like chemicals in the air and he groaned as he was carefully laid over the couch. Kuroo’s hand was over his mouth in contemplation. 

“This isn’t a fever,” he said. 

Kenma shook his head. It took effort to push the bile down his throat. His body wasn’t hot and he didn’t feel tired, just weak, like his bones were jelly and his head a mush.

“I think I’ve seen this before,” he muttered. His eyes were searching his whole body, and his expression slowly shifted to realization. “Have you been taking any medicine?” 

He nodded slowly, wincing in pain. “Heat meds,” he mumbled. The effort to speak, and Kuroo reached down and stroked his cheek. Worry filled his eyes. He sighed, rubbing his neck. He asked more questions such as how long he’d been using them, how much he takes, where they were, and details on his body like his height and weight. 

It made his head spin further trying to think about such things so he just grunted in response, shrugging. “My room,” he managed to say, barely above a whisper. He winced again, massaging the sides of his temples while curling into tight ball over the sheets. He heard Kuroo leave him in his misery, and only then did he let out a whimper. 

Judging from Kuroo’s questions, it was likely to be side effects of using heat suppressants. He scowled, thinking it was odd because he was using them just normally. He even skipped out on using them during the game! One pill for five days every month. Even before he met Kuroo, that’s how he used them, as instructed. 

He turned over, groaning as his surroundings spun. It felt like something was squeezing the sides of his head and twisting it over and over.

Kuroo returned with a box of his heat meds and a new glass of water. He propped Kenma up and raised the glass to his lips. He shook his head when he couldn’t drink anymore, resting his head against Kuroo’s chest. He expected the chocolate, but suddenly Kuroo smelled like burnt plastic and Kenma pushed him away, rolling back on the bed. 

“It smells bad,” he croaked out, lifting his collar to his nose. He wanted to vomit again. His whole body felt limp. 

Kuroo swore under his breath. “We need to get you to the hospital,” he said. “I’m not an expert on omega pheromones, but I think you’ve overdosed on your meds,” he explained.

“No,” Kenma choked out. “No doctor,” 

“Kenma, this looks serious. You can’t wait this out,”

“Yes I can,”

“You can’t,”

“I can,”

“You can’t! Stop arguing!” He snapped.

Kenma grunted, turning his body away from Kuroo. It was painful, but he did _not_ want to go to the doctor. 

Kuroo let out an exasperated breath behind him. “I can’t help you unless you let me, you know? Listen,” he shook the box. “You’re what, five-foot-five? Six? Weigh like a pack of chips too,” he said, irking Kenma. “This is just an assumption, but I think these have put your pheromones off-course,”

“Impossible,” he grunted. “I take them normally,”

“Is _this_ normal?” 

“No,” he admitted. “No doctors,” he added.

“Yes doctors,”

“No doctors,”

“Yes doctors!”

“No!” Kenma snapped. He hissed in pain, clutching his head at his sudden outburst. “I don’t…”

“Okay fine,” Kuroo sighed. “I won’t ask why, but how long has it been since you last went to the doctor 6 months? A year?” 

Kenma swallowed. Kuroo took that pause as a bad sign, and he was right. “T-three years,” 

“Holy shit,” He shook his head, pinching his brows. “Oh my god, how did you stay alive all this time?” 

He wanted to say ‘spite’ or ‘games’, but a stab of pain in his cheek had him curling up again. Kuroo didn’t approach him and he was glad; the smell of his pheromones were unbearable. 

“I’m taking you to Shimizu,” he said. “That’s final, do _not_ argue with me.”

“I said no doctors,” Kenma groaned. 

“She’s not a doctor, she’s a pheromone analysis expert, and she works at Nekomata,”

Kenma kept staring at him. 

Kuroo frowned. “Okay, she has studying for a medical PhD too, but she’s more of the former,”

“What is she?” Kenma asked. 

“Mated alpha, and Yaku consults her sometimes, too” he told him. 

_‘That’s literally a doctor with extra steps,’_ he thought. However, a pheromone analysis might be due, and if Yaku was comfortable with her, then it was probably fine. He didn’t want to bear with this pain any longer. So he nodded. 

Kuroo sighed with relief, all worry melting from his face. He reached over and stroked Kenma’s head tenderly. “You worry me, you know?”

Were palpitations part of overdosing, too? 

Kuroo removed his hand. “You think you can handle a car ride?” 

\---

Just barely. 

They drove with the windows rolled down because Kuroo’s pheromones felt like an assault on his nose and they had to stop by the road thrice when he felt like throwing up but the feeling subsided after a while, settling into a dull throb in his throat. His mouth was still dry and tasting like vomit, so he was periodically smacking his lips and grimacing. 

On the way, Kenma couldn’t help notice Kuroo didn’t smell much of burning plastic anymore. Was he using medicine? Or were the open windows diffusing the scent? Most of his nausea had subsided as he scented less pheromones, of which he was glad, as they drove up to Nekomata Pharmaceuticals, a large institute in the middle of the A-block surrounded by high walls with a guard post. They passed it with ease as the guard recognized Kuroo as he rolled down the windows. Kenma felt slightly panicked as the guard passed a glance over at him before greeting Kuroo politely, allowing him through. Only after they passed did he notice the guard was armed. 

“Feels like I’m infiltrating some secret headquarters,” he said. Kuroo chuckled at that, about to reach over to tousle his hair but stopped inches away, leaving Kenma disappointed. “You work there,” he said, looking at the large building. It was a huge building; a picture-perfect ‘institution’ complete with sanitized white walls and glass windows adorning one side. Before it, a wide parking lot where Kuroo drove to his usual spot. It had a sign in front, reserving it for his plate number. 

They stopped there and Kenma leaned against the door, watching him. Kuroo was on the phone asking for a favor, presumably from this ‘Shimizu.’ He wondered what they were like. He imagined an alpha tall like Kuroo was, in a crisp white lab coat with a pen tucked in the breast pocket. The way Kuroo talked to them sounded polite. Were they close? Were they even their age? Would they be older? He imagined a strict-looking older woman with their hair in a tight bun. It made him remember his old doctor; an old man with greying hair and a faded blue tie; wrinkled fingers pressing a stethoscope to his chest. 

His thoughts came to a screeching halt. His stomach dropped and he gripped it. Kenma pushed the thought away. Of all times he had to remember, it just had to be today. It was unreasonable to be overactive now; he trusted that Kuroo wouldn’t give him to a lech. 

“Shimizu’s inside,” Kuroo told him. “Fortunately she’s not busy, so we can just walk right in,” 

He nodded, swallowing the feeling of apprehension down. “Let’s get it over with, then.” 

They stepped out of car and approached the entrance together. There were more guards by the entrance who nodded politely at Kuroo. “He’s with me,” he said, pointing at him with his thumb. They nodded at Kenma and he tilted his head down. The automatic glass doors slid open as they approached, a breeze of cold air hitting them alongside that medicinal smell that Yaku had on him before. Kenma scrunched up his nose. In front of them was the front front desk which Kuroo approached, beaming a painfully fake smile, “Hey Tama--”

The short man with thick eyebrows and light close-cropped hair at the front desk blinked upon seeing him. He pulled out a walkie talkie, speaking into it. “Please fetch Mr. Yaku, Kuroo Tetsurou has been spotted on the premises,” he said calmly. 

“Come on, Tamahiko!” Kuroo cursed. “I’m not here for work! I’m just here to see Shimizu for my boyfriend, I swear.”

Kenma scratched his cheek being referred to as his ‘boyfriend’. He was slowly getting used to it. 

“Congratulations,” Tamahiko said in a flat tone and bowed, his fingers still pressed against the receiver. “But Mr. Yaku’s orders were clear,”

“Not if I talk to him first,” Kuroo pulled out his phone, cheekily sticking his tongue out. Tamahiko looked unaffected, but put down the receiver. He stared at Kenma while Kuroo texted on his phone, and Kenma looked away. Tamahiko looked younger than he was, perhaps one or a few years younger. He bowed at him, and Kenma awkwardly dipped his head in return, edging closer behind Kuroo to avoid his gaze. 

Again he couldn’t help but feel out of place here. Him and his blonde head felt especially unsuited to the painfully sterile halls. Plain white walls stretched from left to right seeming endless with the blocky modernist design. The mirror-like tiles reflecting the hexagonal fluorescent light fixtures above that mimicked chemical compounds, a nice touch to an otherwise too plain space. All there was to spruce up the hall with color was a single purple orchid plant on Tamahiko’s desk. 

“See? Yakkun says it’s fine,” Kuroo gloated, waving his phone at the receptionist, who remained poker-faced as before. 

“I see. In that case please continue,” he gestured to the left where the elevators were. He almost missed it as they were painted white to blend with the walls. 

“Thanks, Tama~” Kuroo waved and turned towards the elevator. Kenma followed after him with another polite nod at Tamahiko. 

“This place is weird,” he said to Kuroo.

“You get used to it,” he replied, pressing the button for ‘up.’ The elevator dinged, the doors sliding open and they stepped inside. The building went up to 10 floors and a rooftop, but they were headed for the 6th floor. He barely felt the elevator move when moments later the doors had slid open, leading into a sleek hallway with colorful fluid art neatly adorning the walls. They looked like cells up close, and they were interesting enough to look at for a while. Kuroo stopped in front of a door with a nameplate on the door. It read: 

_Dr. Shimizu Kiyoko [α] - Pheromone Analysis Expert_

“Shimizu? It’s Kuroo,” he said, knocking on the door thrice. 

“Come in,” a soft female voice said. 

Kenma blinked in surprise. So they were not an old lady. Kuroo twisted the door handle and stepped right in, holding the door open for Kenma. He entered, freezing immediately at the sight of the pretty woman in front of him. She had long black hair up to her shoulders, a pair of glasses, and a beauty mark on her chin. 

He immediately turned his head away, letting Kuroo who sensed his unease do all the talking. 

“Hey Shimizu, thanks for doing this,” They shook hands. “This is my boyfriend Kenma,”

“Hello,” she said, bowing at him. Even her voice sounded nice.

“Hi,” Kenma stammered, internally cursing. He bowed in greeting, wishing she would look elsewhere. 

“‘Scuse him, he’s a lil’ shy,” Kuroo chuckled. 

“It’s alright. Please sit,” she gestured at a pair of chairs in front of her desk with her slim fingers. She had a wedding ring on, a simple gold band which suited her well.

They talked for a while about Kenma’s condition. While it wasn’t as bad as this morning (in fact his pain had been reduced to dull throbs her could mostly ignore now), Shimizu said that before they could jump to conclusions, they needed to run a couple of tests. 

“If you don’t mind, I need a blood sample. Are you squeamish with blood or syringes?” She asked.

Kenma shook his head. 

“I see. Continuing, results would take up to thirty minutes to be processed by the labs upstairs. While it’s processing, I need to take a look at your height and weight, medications used, as well as your dietary and exercise habits,” 

“Barely,” Kuroo said with a snicker. “He barely eats and exercises,” and Kenma kicked his ankle. 

“Shut up, Kuro…” he mumbled, feeling embarrassed about it. Anyone ate like a bird compared to him.

Shimizu’s lips twitched into a smile for a split-second. “Then, I also need to know your living conditions and sexual history,” 

Kenma stared at the table like a dead fish while Kuroo coughed politely. 

“I uh,” Kuroo mumbled to him, “didn’t see that coming, honest.” 

“Is there something wrong?” Shimizu asked with a tilt of her head. 

Kuroo shook his head. “N-nah, nah! It just came out of left field--”

“You know we’re dealing with pheromones,” she said. “Sexual history is a basic question.” Her words seemed to imply _‘How could you forget when you’re a head researcher?’_ And it shut Kuroo right up. Kenma bit back a snicker of his own. Shimizu continued. “Only after these tests and questions can I make a clear diagnosis. Depending on the results and your condition, it might just be a brief affliction or perhaps a result of something long-term. Hopefully the former,” she said. “Otherwise we'll have to prescribe treatments.”

That put a twist in his gut. “Would I have to pay for it?” He asked. 

Shimizu glanced at Kuroo, then back at him. “No,” she shook her head, “ our company’s healthcare plan covers domestic partners, so it’s entirely shouldered by Kuroo.”

Kenma remained tensed. Would they need official papers? Or would she inspect the bite mark? His neck was perfectly unblemished, a fact he was both glad for but nervous about. 

“Shall we begin the blood test then?” Asked Shimizu, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

He nodded hastily. 

“Very well.” She stood up and pulled out a small box from a steel cabinet. The label read ‘blood sampling kit’ which Kenma was surprised to see. He had never seen them come in boxes before. Shimizu opened one drawer at her desk and pulled out a pair of surgical gloves before she approached their side, politely asking Kuroo for his seat. Up close, Kenma found her features more striking, and he held his breath while she sat, motioning for his arm. He pulled up his sleeve before he held out his wrist to her, trying to limit his trembling. Shimizu placed the kit on her lap and slipped on the gloves, snapping them securely. 

“This would only take 5 minutes. In most cases, worst that could happen is some mild bruising around the injected area,” she said, unboxing the kit. Inside was a needle attached to a clear plastic coil connected to a glass tube. There were also patches of some sort and something that looked similar to a blue belt with a white plastic buckle. Shimizu opened one of the patches to reveal a white square which smelled like rubbing alcohol. Gently, she placed his wrist on her lap and Kenma shot Kuroo a glance. He looked concentrated on what Shimizu was doing next which was looping the belt-like instrument around his forearm, just before the elbow. She pulled it tight, earning a soft grunt from Kenma. She asked if it was painful and he declined. After waiting a couple of moments, his veins were ready. 

The blood collection was quick. Shimizu’s level tone and experience made it a relatively painless experience as she slid the needle into his forearm. It only took a minute or less for the tube to fill up. After the collection she removed the needle and pressed firmly on the wound with a cotton ball. Kenma had to hold it while she passed on the sample to Kuroo, asking him to deliver it upstairs. 

“Whaaat, Shimizu…” Kuroo grumbled. “Can’t you call someone down to do it?” 

“Please,” she insisted. She stared at Kuroo until he backed down, rubbing the back of his neck with his eyes averted. 

Kenma stifled a laugh. Then he regret it as Kuroo left, leaving him in the room with a terrifyingly beautiful woman. She was an mated alpha which was the least of his concern, but now she was going to prod about his body. 

“Okay, now let’s take your measurements,” she said, gesturing to a machine at the corner of her office. It was a medical measurement machine, one of those that could simultaneously take height and weight. He stood there obediently, standing straighter as instructed. He came to being 5’6” and 130 pounds heavy, which she commented on as part of “the lower bracket of healthy for a 27 year-old.” 

Next came the questions. He told her he used patches, had a bunch of shots lying around (though they were rarely used) bur regularly he used the generic brand of heat suppressants, one pill for five days when his heat came around every month. He had been eating significantly well for the past few months with Kuroo, with regular intake of vegetables (Kuroo’s nagging got annoying), meat, and other normal foods. On occasion when they were outside, they’d pick up a couple sweets or two, but only on occasion. As for exercise, Kuroo was right. He lived a fairly sedentary life, only going out and moving when Kuroo made them go outside. 

“I see,” she said, nodding as she wrote this all down on a clipboard. “In that case, may I ask about your sexual history with Kuroo?” 

He froze again. He wondered if he should tell her the truth or not. Were there any repercussions to that? 

Shimizu lowered her voice to a whisper. “It’s alright, you may be honest. I sent him outside for a reason,”

“Then,” Kenma fidgeted in his seat, glancing everywhere but at Shimizu. Admitting it felt like dislodging a rock from his throat. “W-we haven’t done anything.”

“I see,” she said again. Her neutral tone put him on edge as he was searching for any trace of positive or negative intonation to her words. “Then, do you mind me asking about your previous sexual partners?”

He remained silent in hopes she’d understand he never had any partners in the past. 

She blinked at that, stopping her scribbling for a second. “I see,” she said simply, before resuming. “Moving on,”

Kenma silently exhaled. He felt like deflating into a puddle just then. 

“Can you explain your symptoms this morning in much clearer detail?” 

He was glad for that diversion from his sexual history. At the same time while explaining his morning sickness and nausea, he felt the sudden awkwardness of being a 27 year-old virgin omega. He had never cared about it before, sex and partnership, and had always considered himself one of the lucky ones to not have gotten assaulted. He heard somewhere before that mint wasn’t a particularly arousing scent, which he was glad for, but now things were different. 

By the time he finished, Kuroo had come back with a folder of results. 

“I didn’t look at it,” he said, handing it to her. 

“Thank you, and thank you for honoring patient confidentiality,” she glanced at Kenma so fast he almost missed it. She took a look over the files, occasionally mumbling something under her breath or jotting something down on her notes. Kuroo had taken his seat again, silently looking at Kenma all that time. 

“What?” Kenma asked. 

“Is your arm okay?” 

He lifted the cotton ball he had been keeping pressed there. The wound had closed up leaving a dot of a scab in its place, the area around it remaining red like a bug bite. “It feels like a bruise,” he told Kuroo, pressing down on it with the cotton ball. “Ouch,”

“Hey, quit that…” He said, reaching over grasping his hand. 

“I’ve finished analyzing your results,” Shimizu said, closing the folder. Kuroo retreated his hand. “Based on this, and the other data provided, I can confirm it is in fact a reaction borne from an overdose. However it appears Kenma has been overdosing for quite some time, leading to complications,” 

“Excuse me?” Kenma’s eye twitched in disbelief. He had been overdosing for a while? 

“It happens more often than you think,” Shimizu told him. “Typically omegas of lower income rely on generic brands to stave off their heat. It’s not bad, and the medicine works, but every omega is different and those who can afford prescriptions do so because generic brands may be too much or too little for some, leading to certain outcomes. According to your file, the amount of pheromones and hormones present in your blood were quite lower than average. This is due to your repeated use of the medicine which has slowly dulled your pheromone output over the years.”

It was a lot to take in. Kenma could only blink at her. He didn’t even know those things could happen. He just thought if he took the medicine, he’d be fine. Kuroo had a hand over his mouth, leaned against the seat in deep thought.

“It’s quite a bit of information, I know,” she said. “But there’s a bit more. This involves your exposure to other alpha’s pheromones as well as your sexual history,” 

Kenma kept his gaze firmly attached to the table. He hadn’t told Kuroo because he was never expecting anything like this. He thought he could just live in his house, share pheromones, and that was it. That was their contract. Now he was in a lab getting news that he had been overdosing for some reason. 

“The medicine has lowered your pheromone output which also means a lowered sex drive and physical reactions to alpha pheromones as well. While it may be regarded as a good thing at first, it could quickly lead to an inversion of effects where alpha pheromones smell bad and give intense reactions such as what you have described earlier,”

“Burned plastic,” he mumbled, nodding in agreement. 

“Yes, I had a patient who described it as such in the past. Now these pheromone-controlling medicines target that certain nerve in the brain and if it goes unchecked, it could also begin interfering with other brain functions, hence the nausea and vomiting.”

It unfortunately made sense. 

“Why only now, though?” Kenma asked. 

“I believe it’s because you’ve been exposed to alpha pheromones more frequently, and at stronger amounts. Since you haven’t had sex--”

Kuroo coughed loudly into his palm. “S-sorry, do continue…?” 

Kenma was internally combusting. 

Shimizu nodded. “Since you haven’t had sex with any partner yet, your body had no reason to react, other than when it’s your heat, which you use medicine for. Now that you’re regularly being exposed, your body is starting to react on its own in small doses, but given your low output, it wouldn’t have been long before it couldn’t match the demand and therefore reject the alpha pheromones instead.” 

“Oh,” he said, tone flat. It all made sense. “Okay,”

“So how do you suggest we treat it, Shimizu?” Kuroo asked. “What sort of meds are we giving him? Treatment?” 

She hummed, tapping the pen against her chin. “I’ll make calculations based on his data, but for now I suggest dropping your current heat meds right now,”

Kenma frowned. “What about the patches?”

“They only serve to diffuse the scent but don’t affect the brain, so you may continue using them. The shots I also recommend against,”

He nodded. 

“Other than that, we’ll prescribe you your own dose of pheromone regulators. They should help raise your levels, though be warned for... certain side-effects. You may find yourself becoming more affectionate with your partner, and an increase in libido over the next few weeks.”

“Wait,” Kenma sat up straighter, “libido increase,” he immediately turned to Kuroo who was intensely focused on his shoes. The fringe of his messy hair made it difficult for him to make out his expression, but he could guess from the redness in his ears what he was feeling.

“Yes, in fact I recommend that once your pheromones have readjusted, you let nature take its course,” she told him. Kuroo coughed politely. “It’s a good way of releasing and adjusting pheromones, as well as stress relief,” 

Kenma’s mind was reeling. Only when Kuroo had stood up and thank Shimizu for her time and diagnosis did he move as well, standing up and mumbling some thanks. She said something about emailing Kuroo his prescriptions and that was it. Kuroo gently ushered him outside while he had his eyes glued to the floor, his gut twisting again. 

Kuroo stopped walking. “Hey,” he said, jolting Kenma. 

“What?” He asked, feeling his throat dry up.

“Let’s talk about it at home,” 

“...Okay.” he replied.

\---

They went home and had an awkward lunch. It was a quiet save for their chewing and Kenma could barely taste his sandwich as he anticipated Kuroo to start the topic at any given time. He seemed just as preoccupied with thought as Kenma was, staring out the window instead of harping on him over his half-eaten food like he usually did. Kenma desperately wanted him to fill the silence with anything, anything but the topic of his condition. 

Unfortunately, he had agreed to this, so he had to deal with the consequences. At the very least, he was obliged to start because it was his health, and his pheromones involved. 

“Hey Kuro,” he said, thumbing his fork as he waited for a response.

Kuroo glanced at him. “Are you ready now?”

He nodded. A question came to him: “Does this void the contract?” 

Kuroo blinked in surprise. “No, no it won’t. You still have _some_ pheromones to offer me,”

“You could find somebody else,” he suggested, even if it left him with a bitter taste in his mouth. “Somebody who can do better.” Somebody who _was_ better. 

“I don’t want somebody else, I want you.” he said. 

Kenma’s eyes widened as the world came to a screeching halt. His fork clattered against the plate, causing him to wince at the noise. Warmth crept to his hands and face and his mind was trying to process what he had just said. “Why?” was all he managed to blurt out. 

Kuroo opened and closed his mouth while he gestured frantically with his hands. His face was gradually turning red as he tried to form words. Eventually he gave up altogether, burying his hands in his palms. 

Kenma stared, unsure if he should say anything or not. 

“It’s because you’re…. You’re just _you,_ you know?’

This again. He understood, but surely there was something else-- something more to it than the vague idea of ‘Kenma’ that Kuroo liked. What part of him exactly? Was it his looks? (He doubted it.) Was it his personality? (Definitely not.) Was it just because he was an omega? (That. That was possible.) Whatever his reasons, Kenma was to refute all of it. 

He liked Kuroo, he really did. Which is why he believed he should be doing better. 

“Don’t be so vague,” he grumbled.

“Wrong answer, huh? Your face says it all,” he sighed. “Let me explain,”

“Thank you,” Kenma said wondering briefly what sort of face he made for Kuroo to point it out before gesturing at him to continue. Kuroo rubbed his chin as if to consider his words carefully.

“Y’see, for a guy who barely does anything but play games, watch shows on the internet, and pick fights with me, you’re actually pretty interesting,” Kuroo said, a smirk tugging up his lips. 

“You’re not being honest when you’re smirking,” Kenma narrowed his eyes.

Kuroo scoffed, scratching his neck. “Caught in the act, huh?”

Kenma nudged his leg from under the table. “Kuro.”

“‘Kay fine,” he grumbled, muttering something about him being a pain under his breath. “For the record I was being honest,” He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the seat as he pointed his face to the ceiling like a child doing calculations for class in the air. “You always sell yourself short but I can tell you’re sharp-minded, determined at what you do, and you’re… just so _different_ and interesting.”

“Interesting how?” 

“Fucking hell, do I have to explain how the sun works too?”

Kenma snorted, “I just like to make things difficult for you,” 

“I know,” he groaned, “you’re probably one of the most difficult people I’ve met,” 

“Maybe your personality’s bad and people just humor you, and I’m just honest,”  
“No way, people _love_ me! I know I’m nice, smart, and handsome to boot! And _you_ are far from honest,” 

Kenma wasn’t going to agree to all of that to his face. Not now especially.

“See, the corner of your lips just twitched! You totally agree with me~” He smirked, brushing a hand through his hair as if that could fix it. “T’was about time you recognized my exemplary character,” 

Kenma scoffed. “I was just wondering how long you’ve gone without anyone beating your face in,” he said. 

“Heh,” Kuroo grinned. Odd that he did. “You just can’t admit it~ You like me~”

Kenma shook his head in disbelief. “Where the hell did you come up with that…” Kenma grumbled. 

“I didn’t come up with it, I made a hypothesis, did my observations and research, so now I have results!” He grinned. 

“Which you faked,” Kenma snorted. 

“Hey now, I’m a reputable chemist! Want me to explain my graduating thesis to you? It’s all about the how the blood and the brain--”

“Spare me the details,” Kenma rolled his eyes. “We’ve gone way off topic,”

“And here I was thinking I could get away with it,” Kuroo sighed, looking disappointed. 

“Tell me more,” Kenma insisted. 

“Do you get off to praise?” 

Kenma kicked him hard, earning a soft curse. “It just doesn’t make sense to me,”

Kuroo looked at him, clear traces of a blush on his face. “See, selling yourself short again like I said! You have a lot of good qualities like good observation skills, analytical head, you think rationally, and I don’t think you’re superficial,”

“This is news to me. Fake news.” This was a mistake, he decided. His face was heating up again and he wished he didn’t get to hear these things that he specifically asked for, like an idiot.

“What, you think I wouldn’t have picked up a couple things from the time we’ve been together? You know you’re not exactly the most motivated of people, but once you like something, you do put the effort, y’know? Even if all you like are games,”

“I made you ramen. That one time,” Kenma blurted out. 

Kuroo froze. Then he leaned in close, a grin spread over his face. “Oya oya oya~?”

Kenma flushed, regretting this immediately. “I should have let you starve,” 

“But you didn’t! Is it because…”

“Stop.”

“You…”

“Shut it.”

“Actually like me~?” He snickered, his shoe playfully tapping against Kenma’s.

“Die,” he hissed, scrunching up his nose at Kuroo’s triumphant expression. The very same one from the roaring stadium when the Ryujins had scored and Kenma was being eaten alive by his own feelings. 

After a healthy amount of gloating, Kuroo settled down with a satisfied sigh. “At least we’re on the same page. You definitely don’t hate me,” 

“...You’ve done nothing wrong to me,” 

Kuroo’s grin faded from his face. “I haven’t, but…”

“Kuro, do you want to do something to me?” He was fully aware of the intent his words carried, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Do you _want_ me to?” The look on Kuroo’s face was serious. His gaze was long and focused on him that Kenma had to bite his tongue to keep from saying anything. Kuroo leaned closer, waiting for his answer. As he did, Kenma could smell the harsh scent of burnt plastic mingling with the medicine. 

“That’s not what I asked,” Kenma said, averting the topic. His stomach was twisting again, and so followed the dull ache in his head. He winced hard. “I just need to know…” 

“It’s acting up again,” Kuroo said, getting up from his chair. He left the room and out the front door for god knows what reason. 

Kenma groaned, clutching his eyes because they felt just about ready to pop from his skull. What sick timing it was, to have it happen now of all times. He had forgotten there were pheromones in the house. He had turned careless once he had gotten used to the safety Kuroo provided and he didn’t know whether or not he should resent that fact. All he was thinking now was that it was wholly possible Kuroo wanted to have sex with him. 

Thinking about that further wrenched his insides. The idea itself was not repulsive, but he imagined the pheromones suffocating him and his maladjusted body; the stress it would create for him who had no experience, nor interest in the act until now to comprehend even trying. 

He had to get rid of this condition first. 

When Kuroo came back Kenma was relieved yet that ‘omega’ part of him was disappointed. He was relieved because Kuroo’s pheromones were gone behind a thick medicinal smell surrounding him like had just sprinted through the Nekomata labs and back. Disappointed, because he wanted nothing more to be comforted by his pheromones. 

As he tentatively approached, the tension surrounding Kenma’s head loosened. “Shimizu says your prescriptions come in tomorrow,” he said. “Does this work?” He waved his hand, wafting some of the smell at Kenma. 

“Smells like the hospital,” he groaned. “What is it?” 

“A spray from work I keep in my car. It’s basically liquid patches,” he said. “It looked real bad so I couldn’t--”

“Use your medicine?” Kenna cut in. 

Kuroo hesitated before nodding. “Cat’s out of the bag I guess,” 

His grin was twisted in pain as he leaned over the table, gripping his stomach. “I think I’m gonna throw up,”

\---

Kuroo confined him to the couch. The windows had been left open for him, so there was a nice breeze wafting in. He took the moment to realize how everything had been so different from before. Back when he lived in the D-blocks the fresh scent of morning traffic greeted him everyday. Blaring horns, people yelling, and the block was a particular favorite route of airplanes to pass over at least a couple times a week. Here the air was fresh and smelled nothing of smoke and the city; the chirping of birds had replaced the loud horns and the only human to greet him every morning when he lived his adult life without one was Kuroo. 

“They should be working now,” Kuroo said, tentatively sitting next to Kenma. He left a few inches between them. “Can you smell anything?” 

Kenma shook his head. “They work well,” 

“I made them, so duh,” he snorted. “You’re not gonna… tweet about this or something, are you?” 

“I don’t even have a Twitter,” he said, shifting so that they were just a bit closer. Kuroo took the signal to wrap his arm around Kenma’s shoulder, pulling him close. 

He kind of liked how easy life was like this; how easy it was to press close to a guy like Kuroo and what comfort it brought him that there was no offending smell, because he just needed the bit of warmth, not the pheromones anymore. 

It was good. The feeling in his chest was lighter than he had ever felt it to be. Getting up was no longer a chore. He slid into bed every night and even if he were to drop on the mattress, he never had neighbors to worry about disturbing. There was always food, and he could lounge around as long as he wanted. Going outside, he never had to flinch away from anyone who looked remotely alpha, and even enjoying things like a cone of ice cream no longer had the afterthought of expenses attached to it. He lived for those moments; those sweet and easy moments created by the pretense of a contract.

At least now, his feelings were real. 

“Kuro, when you said those things earlier, just to be clear, was…” He hesitated, lowering his head just so Kuroo wouldn’t see his face. How voice lowered to a whisper. “Was it in the context of ‘like’ or ‘like-like?’”

“Eh?” Kuroo’s whole body stiffened. Kenma didn’t have to look to feel the heat spreading through his body, which influenced him as well. His heart was hammering against his chest as he waited for the answer. 

“W-wasn’t it already obvious?” Kuroo asked. “Oh my god,” 

“Say it,” and Kenma couldn’t but add, “coward. Be clear with me,”

Kuroo had turned away his torso from him, rubbing the back of his neck like it was itchy. It was red, and that was all Kenma needed to know. “The latter.”

“Eh?” Kenma put a hand to his own prickling cheeks. He looked at Kuroo who had turned back at him with a ruby-red face. 

“Don’t you ‘eh’ me!” Kuroo snapped. “Haven’t I been clear enough this whole time? Idiot!” He shoved him.

“Why’re you calling me an idiot? You’re the idiot…” Kenma shoved back, “for liking somebody like me,” 

“Huh? I just told you reasons why I liked you earlier! Need me to say it again?” Kuroo was annoyed, a frown on his face. He flicked Kenma’s forehead. “You’re determined!” His tone steadily rose as he spoke as did the blush on his face. “You’re sharp-minded, and what, you’re cute!” 

Kenma shoved him away. “I don’t believe that,” he said, even if his face was flustered and he could hear his own pounding heartbeat.

Kuroo gaped like a fish. “Wha- What the hell can I say that would convince you, then! Godammit Kenma, you have good qualities! What’s so difficult to accept about that?” 

“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “I just… I don’t _know._ You could be lying,” 

“Kenma,” Kuroo held his face so tenderly; he was ready to melt. “Trust me when I say I like you, because you’re _you_. Stop denying yourself these things!”

_‘Just enjoy it. Find your happiness. Try and strive for what you deserve. I think Kuroo’s a good person, and I think I want to kiss him.’_

Slowly, he lifted his fingers to cup Kuroo’s cheek, pulling him close for a kiss. Their lips met, warm and soft pressed together and this time Kenma was aware of every single moment of it, and that if he didn’t pull away now his heart would burst. He pushed Kuroo away, immediately shielding his face with his sleeve before mumbling so softly even he could barely hear it.

“I trust you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello I am sorry for the slight delay! This chapter was kind of difficult to write for some reason, but I hope you all enjoyed! Expect things to... escalate faster after this ;) Another thing is that I've been noticing larger errors in my work recently hjghdfh I also want to apologize for that?? I really love writing this so I'm pretty excited to push out updates to the best of my abilities. It would really help if you guys point it out if I make a mistake so I could fix them ASAP 
> 
> With that being said, I'm here to tell you guys in advance that there might not be any updates for the month of May because that's when finals begin for me, and I'll be focusing on that. It's still quite some time away but just a head's up! Again, thank you all so much for the kudos and comments!! I read them to motivate me, and I just want to say it's been absolutely wild how much support this fic has gotten since I posted it last January? You guys are the best :D
> 
> I have a < a href="https://twitter.com/danmujiji”>Twitter here where I've started posting some kuroken doodles recently, as well as updates and occasional fic snippets so follow me if you're into that!


	21. Side-Effects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma undergoes the side-effects of his new medication. It's all cute, annoying, frustrating, and embarrassing.

The following day they had returned to the labs and obtained Kenma’s new treatments and Kuroo for his own blood test. She had also provided explanations on how what he has to take, how often, and the side-effects. He has to take a supplementary shots every week starting from today, pheromone boosting pills, and multivitamins because it would be taxing on his body to suddenly increase its pheromone output. The side-effects of these medicines included a stronger appetite, more irritability, drowsiness, and more… affection towards his alpha. 

“Don’t worry, I can administer the shots for you,” Kuroo said as they drove back. He was grinning, which he usually didn’t when he drove, and Kenma remembered when Shimizu asked him after the blood test if he was fine. ‘Couldn’t be better,’ he had said, smiling like an idiot, causing butterflies in Kenma’s stomach. 

He mumbled some thanks in response. “Hey Kuro, why’d you get a blood test?” 

“Hmm? Ah well…” He stared at the road for a moment. “Compatibility, y’know? I have a high output, and that could mess you up if I get too excited,” 

“Is your medicine affecting you?” 

“Ah, always so sharp,” he muttered under his breath. 

“You like it,” Kenma said back, turning his head away from Kuroo immediately after. 

“Oya, someone’s getting bold~” Kuroo’s lips pull up into a grin, and they caught each other’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. “I like it,” he said, glancing away. “I like you.” He accepted Kenma’s vivid flush as reciprocation with a soft chuckle. 

“Kuro, the question,” Kenma reminded him. 

He hummed. “All medicines have a side-effect, y’know? But what’s happening to me isn’t significant. It’s like taking a biogesic where you might be a bit drowsy after, but you can usually shrug that off, right?”

He nodded. “So the side-effects are…?” 

“Not telling~ That’s about as much as I can legally tell you, y’know?” 

“Here you go again,” Kenma scoffed, annoyed. “Shouldn’t you tell me more things as your boyf--”

The car accelerated forward, jerking Kenma against the backseat. The car slowed back to normal speed, Kuroo hissing through his teeth. 

Kenma stared at him, wide-eyed and tensed. Kuroo was red, all the way from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, and down past his neck. “Are you serious?” He blurted out. “We could have gotten into an accident!”

“Sorry! Sorry, I just got surprised!” He , running a hand through his hair. 

“What, that we’re boyfriends? Get it together, my god,” he snorted. “We’ve been at this for months. Why do you get shy every time?” 

Instead of answering him, Kuroo made a bunch of noises with his mouth while covering one side of his face. Kenma reached over and pinched his side, pressing harder as Kuroo flinched. His whole body trembled as he tried to keep from laughing, attempting to shoot Kenma a glare for him to stop. 

“I’m going to crash this car,” he grunted, removing one hand from steering wheel to poke hard at Kenma’s cheek. “You quit that!”

“Give me answers,” Kenma said, puffing his cheek against the finger. 

“Give me a kiss?” Kuroo smirked.

“Oh,” he sighed, drawing back his hands. “I don’t want it anymore.”

Kuroo pinched his cheek. “So stingy! Give me a kiss!”

He scrunched up his nose. “You’re so demanding…” 

“There’s your little face again. I bet you like it, though.” 

“Do not,”

“Do too!”

“Do not,”

“Do too!”

“Do _not._ ”

“Do too! You’re getting pretty demanding yourself, y’know? Like a kitten who’s like _‘play with me or I’ll bite you!’_ ” 

Kenma groaned, imagining himself as some sort of calico cat. “You’re horrible. I hate you.”

“Oya oya~? Bold words from somebody who kissed me and then said, ‘I trust you.’”

His confession from yesterday flashed in his mind. He covered his face by pulling on his hood and drawing the strings close while Kuroo howled with laughter beside him. He was filled with nothing but regret as it continued all the way home, with Kuroo having to threaten to carry him out of the car if he didn’t ‘get over it.’

“Face it Kenma, you like me~” Kuroo snickered.

“Oh shut it...” He grumbled. 

\---

Kenma cursed as he got knocked out by the monster. He shut off the Switch and clenching Kuroo’s forearm, squeezing it with his nails. His forearm was the perfect stress reliever; it was thick enough to grip comfortably and hard with muscle. 

“Kenma, ow,” Kuroo stopped typing on his laptop, removing his glasses with his other hand. “Lost again? You’re out of touch,”

He ignored that while squeezing harder, headbutting his shoulder. “I hate the meds,”

“I know,” he said, lifting his forearm. “You’ve been taking it out on me!”

“Mmmm,” he continued gripping it, particularly liking how well the forearm felt under his fingers. “I think I’m ready to play again,” he said, hooking his arm around Kuroo while he picked up the game again. He grunted when Kuroo tried removing it.

“This is the weirdest mix of the adorable and annoying symptoms,” he said. “I can’t type like this,”

“Shut up Kuro, you shouldn’t be working anyway.” He mumbled, leaning closer to him. 

“It’s not work, it’s for the party. It’s coming up soon, and they expect me to have a speech for it. So here I am, spending a lovely afternoon typing up a stuffy speech for a party I hate, when instead I could be making out with you, my boyfriend.” 

Kenma shifted, resisting the urge to lick his lips. “Maybe after I win,” he said, and when he did, the shock of his own words promptly caused him to lose. 

“Ah.” 

“‘Ah’ my ass, you better try again!” Kuroo nudged him. “I want you to kiss me, so hurry up.”

“Kind of tempted to lose,” he mumbled, pulling his collar to cover his mouth. 

“I don’t think your gamer pride would allow it,” he smirked. He was right. Kenma was just about getting tired of losing to the damn boss, so he huffed and focused. He kind of wished he had a bit of Kuroo’s pheromones so he could focus again, but ever since he started his treatment he hadn’t had a whiff of it. Even his room had been aired out, and he wasn’t allowed near Kuroo’s, not until his body could react properly. In exchange, he had been the one putting out pheromones, that even his clothes smelled minty when he changed them. He wondered if they affected Kuroo, but he was taking medicine himself. 

He swallowed, thinking what would happen if he was off his medicine. He shrugged off the thought. 

Minutes later, he sighed with relief as he defeated the boss. The final phase took everything out of him save for a single sliver of life. With a well-timed combo he struck the final blow. As the winning music played and the rewards scrolled through the screen, Kuroo lowered his face down to Kenma’s, staring at him expectantly. 

His heart beat against his chest so hard he was sure Kuroo could hear it. From the looks of it, he wasn’t going to close their lips. With shaky hands he cupped Kuroo’s face and placed a kiss on his lips. He drew back but Kuroo closed their lips together again, sucking gently, asking for entrance. He pressed his lips tight together, causing Kuroo to draw back. 

“We can’t make out if your mouth is closed, Kenma.” 

“I’m not… used to making out,” he stammered, averting his gaze. 

Kuroo smiled softly, brushing a lock of hair behind his ears, his touch leaving Kenma shivering. “Then let’s get you used to it,” 

Kenma’s stomach erupted into butterflies. “Okay,” he said, a touch bit too enthusiastic that raised Kuroo’s smile into another shit-eating grin. 

“Kiss me, my little kitten,” He snickered, pushing his lips out. 

Kenma flushed at the nickname, covering Kuroo’s mouth with his fingers, annoyance flashing over his face, but Kuroo wouldn’t be deterred, kissing down his palm, trailing more over his forearm until he went for the neck, sucking at his jawline. Kenma sucked in a breath, tremors overcoming his body. There was the scent of mint, and there was Kuroo inhaling it in as they met eyes. He licked his lips. 

“Too carried away,” Kenma mumbled, touching Kuroo’s cheek, flushing. 

“You signed up for this,” he replied, grinning. He took that as a signal to continue, finally pressing their lips together again. He paused for Kenma to kiss back, which he did, lightly sucking like what he did earlier, earning a grin from Kuroo who took the lead. 

He repeated his actions from earlier, sucking gently at Kenma’s lip. Kenma parted them slowly, allowing him to deepen the kiss, a hand snaking up behind his head. He reciprocated, albeit with some tentativeness, his hand stroking up Kuroo’s broad back, up his neck, then through his hair which was fluffy, tickling his fingertips. Kuroo seemed to enjoy this, purring as he continued to brush his hair. Kuroo parted their lips with a wet noise, leaving Kenma panting in his arms.

“Out of breath so soon?” He grinned, lips wet.

“Shut up,” 

Kuroo hummed as they kissed again, this time licking his bottom lip again and Kenma let him slip his tongue inside. After that he didn’t know what else to do, allowing Kuroo to take full control. He knew what he was doing; he was _experienced_ at it, which is why Kenma could even consider this twisting of tongues to be enjoyable. He felt completely at his mercy, shame slowly being stripped away when he moaned into Kuroo’s mouth, a grin tugging at the alpha’s lips when he did. They separated again, Kuroo delivering swift pecks to his jaw and near his ears where he heard the smacking noise and stifled another moan. 

Kuroo pulled away, his smirk from ear to ear. “Cat got your tongue?” 

Kenma resisted groaning. “You’re horrible at this,”

“Sure am,” he said with utmost confidence. “So let’s keep practicing some more.”

They finished with their legs tangled together on the couch, their faces flushed, lips tingling, and a hickey or three left on their skin. Kenma surprised himself at his own boldness, responding with encouraging moans to Kuroo who had muttered (after a mischievous bite to his lip) that he was a fast learner. 

“Thank your gamer brain for learning how to return me a gamer kiss,” he snorted, placing another kiss on his forehead. “I'm so honored to receive your gamer love,” 

Kenma pinched his cheek, bashful all of a sudden. “Shut up, Kuro…” 

“Sure, but only with your gamer lips,” he snickered, pointing at his lips.

“You've had enough,” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes. He felt drowsy.

Kuroo noticed, instead rubbing his cheek tenderly. “So did you, it seems. Go take a little gamer nap, Kenma.”

He was getting too sleepy to protest against ‘gamer' any more, so he nodded and curled up against Kuroo, sighing deeply. He fell asleep to the sound of Kuroo typing away on the computer. 

\---

“Ah, I forgot,” Kuroo turned to him as he stepped out of the car. “Shimizu told me you should be in the clear by now, so for today I'm off my medicine,”

He knew that. His skin was prickling despite the face mask he wore ‘for precautions,’ he told himself this morning, but precautions for nothing. Right now there were traces of a tantalizing aroma coming off Kuroo and Kenma had been inhaling it throughout the car ride. 

“Stinky,” he muttered, glad the face mask prevented Kuroo from seeing him lick his lips.

He rolled his eyes. “I’ve been giving you the shots, so you should actually be fine. You’re not making the ‘ick’ face, liar,”

Kenma scrunched up his nose, frowning. 

_“Now_ , you’re making the ‘ick’ face on purpose! That doesn’t count. C’mon, let’s do some groceries!” He gestured for Kenma to follow him inside the supermarket. 

Kenma remained just outside the entrance. “Can’t I just stay in the car? Wait, you got your germs all over it, nevermind.” 

“My germs? The germs you made out with?” He snorted again, his lips pulling into a wicked grin Kenma had the fierce desire to punch. He waved his hand for him to come over again, the arm raised where he usually rested is on Kenma’s shoulders. 

He sighed and took his place under that arm, gulping hard as the scent hit him. It was sweet, and worse of all subtle, because Kenma had to sniff harder to feel satisfied. The slightest whiff made him want to hug Kuroo’s side and stay there. He found the idea wasn’t the worst thing he could be thinking right now, certainly not when they were at such close proximities. Their position itself was something like a half-hug itself, except Kenma kept his arms stuck firmly to his sides, holding up his phone while he texted Akaashi, Kuroo to guide him along the grocery. (Not that it was bothersome, given the time he spends meticulously considering everything he buys.) Akaashi had resumed asking about his condition every day since he told him about the new treatment a few days ago. 

That, and when they made out. 

Not just the other day ago when Kuroo had ‘taught’ him how, but way before that. Kenma thought he’d respond with alarm or shock, but to his dismay, Akaashi was strangely invested in he and Kuroo’s little… engagements of lips. 

Akaashi: _Do you feel any different today?_

Kenma: _Kind of weird i guess_  
_Like idk a bit more clingy_  
_Honestly its annoying_

Akaashi: _Oh?_

He hated it when Akaashi just says ‘Oh?’ It’s like his own version of Kuroo’s ‘oya oya’ bullshit. He did it when he happened to be write about something, and those somethings were usually against Kenma, like when they made bets over who would die in movies and he’d lose.  
Kenma: _Stop_

Akaashi: _I haven’t said anything, Kenma._

Kenma: _I bet you’re smiling right now._

Akaashi: _I don’t know what you’re talking about._

He texted, followed by a picture of him at work. Kenma immediately zoomed into the near-microscopic curl on his lips, screenshotting it and sending back.

Kenma: _Liar_

Akaashi: _Quite observant of lips now, are you?_

He cursed under his breath. He walked right into that one. 

Kenma: _Ok_  
_so have you two fucked yet_

Akaashi’s speech bubble was typing and pausing and typing again for a long time. After a whole minute, he finally replied. 

Akaashi: _There might have been some light necking here and there._

Kenma’s mouth was a small ‘o’ shape under his mask. He stopped walking with Kuroo, staring dumbfounded at the screen. 

“Holy shit,” he said.

“What is it?” Kuroo asked, turning to him. He was comparing the weight of two cantaloupes in his hands. Kenma snorted at the display, momentarily distracted and Kuroo snickered. “Oya, so dirty minded, Kenma~” 

“Oh shut up,” he said. “I think Akaashi and Bokuto are going to do it soon,” 

Kuroo’s jaw dropped, which he shut immediately as he struggled to keep the cantaloupes in his hands. He failed to catch one, and it smacked against the floor, rolling away from them. 

“That’s your fault,” Kenma told him, ignoring an little internal protest as he walked away to the orange stand, pretending they weren’t affiliated. 

“Ass,” Kuroo swore, striding over to pick up the fallen fruit. They faced each other, the pyramid of oranges between them. He inspected the cantaloupe and showed the dented part to him. “Look! Now I feel bad and we have to buy it and eat it. I guess lunch’s gonna be fruit, Kenma.”

Kenma groaned. “Just put the other one back,”

“No!” He sounded offended at the suggestion. “This one’s ripe,” Kuroo said, raising the other undamaged fruit. Then he blinked as if realizing something and began squeezing the melons. “Kenma look,” he said.

“What are you doing…?” He lowered the face mask to show his weirded out expression. 

“I’m giving these cantaloupes a mel-mogram,” he snickered.

Kenma ducked his head behind the oranges, holding back a loud snort but failing. “Y-you are so immature,” he said as Kuroo cackled at his stupid joke. He rose after he had collected himself. “God, grow up already,” 

Kuroo puffed out his chest, cantaloupes included, standing taller. “I’m plenty grown! _You_ are a pipsqueak, and that’s why I’m feeding you all the food~”

“Shimizu said I was healthy,” he said, omitting the ‘lower bracket of-’ part. “You’re large just because you’re an alpha,” 

“Hey now, I didn’t ask for that,” he said, sounding serious. 

Kenma blinked, taken aback. “Oh. Sorry, um…” He felt panic rising in his chest. 

Glancing at him, Kuroo smiled. “It’s fine, I was just joking! Honestly I just got lucky,” he said, walking over to where the cart and placing the fruit there. Kenma followed him and they moved on, though Kenma still couldn’t shake the feeling of his blunder, even if it was Kuroo. 

At the dairy section, Kuroo spoke again. “Y’know, I could have become an omega,” he said. 

Kenma fumbled with his phone. “What?!” He had a hard time imagining it; a Kuroo his height or even shorter, and with waifish physique. It just felt wrong.

Kuroo cackled again, drawing some attention from a passing woman who he apologized to. 

“Kuro, don’t joke like that,” Kenma said, nudging his leg with his foot. Did he seriously think he’d believe that? 

“It’s true, though!” He said, comparing two cups of yogurt. “My mom was an omega, dad was a beta. They thought I was just tall for a teenager, but then I was designated alpha,” he sighed. “How surprised do you think my dad was?”

Kenma stared at him, expecting him to answer his own question. 

“Very,” he continued. “There was only a three percent chance they said, since none of my grandparents were alphas. Now look what happened,” he said with a grin. “I’m like this now.” He picked a yogurt and put it in the cart.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Kenma told him. “You got lucky,”

Kuroo chuckled soundlessly and rubbed his head, sliding down to cup his cheek. He drew their faces close until their foreheads were touching. “Now I am. Lucky to have met you~” he laughed again, kissing his cheek. 

Kenma cringed hard, exhaling hard as he rolled his eyes. His face was heating up regardless, which Kuroo found pleasing, no doubt. “You are so _sappy,_ ” he scoffed.

“Just the way you like it~ Gimme a kiss!” He said, closing his eyes while he pushed out his lips. 

Kenma rolled his eyes before he landed a swift peck on Kuroo’s lips.

“Excuse me,” an elderly woman’s voice said. It appeared she wanted to get to the cheese section their cart was blocking. 

Kenma mumbled ‘sorry’ so fast he wasn’t even sure he said it. He quickly pushed the cart away a couple aisled over, then looked behind to see Kuroo still standing there, red and gaping like a fish out of water, the old lady muttering under her mouth. Kenma went back for him, taking him by the hand and hissing ‘come on’ at him. He smelled like chocolate and Kenma bit on his lip before dragging him back to the cart. Kuroo was covering his face like a child that had been scolded. 

“Why are you like this, you’re so embarrassing,” Kenma said, fighting back the urge to abandon Kuroo there and pull up his hood. 

“I didn’t think you’d kiss me then,” Kuroo said, his voice high-pitched and cracking like he was going to cry. “You caught me off guard,” 

“Just push the cart already,” Kenma groaned, raising the mask to cover his heated face and to deter his scent. It was annoying, but maybe a little bit endearing how Kuroo couldn’t take what he dished out so frequently. Just a little bit. 

After taking a moment to recollect himself, they moved on with their groceries smoothly. 

Except for one thing: Kenma would always find himself glued back to Kuroo no matter what. He noticed it at first when they had been knocking arms more often. He usually ignored this, but it was Kuroo who shifted first. He never did that. As much as he tried keeping his distance, again it was Kuroo who noticed first. 

“Kenma, you keep bumping against me,” he said, stopping the cart. 

“Eh?” He froze. “Have I?” 

“Didn’t take you to be a clingy one,” he smirked. 

“Don’t say that,” He groaned again. “This is just…”

“Pheromones, right?”

He nodded.

Kuroo ruffled his hair and pushed the cart along.

After a few minutes he stopped again, this time because he nearly tripped over Kenma’s feet when he tried to turn a corner. “Holy shit,” he regained his balance. “Kenma you are the world’s most adorable magnet, but we can’t do the groceries like this,” his said.

He flushed at the compliment, glowering at him. “Well excuse me for my pheromones,” he said with a harrumph, crossing his arms and turning away from him. This in turn caused Kuroo to panic, sputtering out some excuse. Kenma only realized how irritable he had been when Kuroo finally sighed and waited for him to respond. 

He took a deep breath, catching the smell of chocolate as he did, which helped soothe his annoyance. He apologized, then opted to stay beside the cart as to not be a disturbance. 

“Wish I could just put you on the baby seat, so you can snuggle me while I push the cart,” Kuroo commented. 

“I was _not_ snuggling you,” he replied. 

“Was too! You were pressing against me like a cat,”

“Was not.”

“Was too!”

“Was not.”

“Was too~ Don’t worry kitten, I’ll snuggle you a lot later!” Kuroo cooed, chuckling after.

Kenma frowned, only grunting back.

_Fine. Later._

\---

Just as promised, Kuroo did intend to snuggle him at home. Unfortunately for him Kenma was feeling a streak of irritation, and everything was setting him off. He hissed at everything like a water droplets on a hot pan.

“Stop touching me so much,”

“That’s kind of a difficult request,”

“Ugh,” he just had to do everything himself, didn't he? Kenma used his knees to push Kuroo away from him. The alpha’s body moved aside without resistance, his arms raised as to not touch him. “You’re stinky,” Kenma muttered. 

“And you’re being a noisy kitten today~” He cooed, sticking his tongue out. 

Kenma grunted, digging his knees further into Kuroo’s hips. “Shut up, stop touching me,” 

“Okay,” he said, shrugging as he turned and pushed himself off the couch.

 _“No,”_ Kenma whined. He realized what he just did and clapped a hand over his mouth, frantically shaking his head while the the ‘o’ on Kuroo’s mouth gradually shifted into the widest, most punchable grin he had ever put on. Kenma narrowed his eyes at the alpha, a middle finger raised at him. “Shut up,” Kenma hissed, “you heard nothing,”

 _I’m not talking,_ Kuroo mouthed, sliding back onto the couch, this time pressing Kenma against the backrest, which he found oddly comfortable, the warmth and smell of hot cocoa emanating from him, and this time Kenma didn’t resist like earlier when he was feeling irritable; annoyed at everything but mostly at himself for his condition, and now he was taking some stupid medicine which made him feel feel all sorts of things. It made him wonder why exactly he even agreed to fix it, when he was living life just fine, even with his low output. Then again, he lived with Kuroo now, and it made him grit his teeth thinking his sweet smell would be replaced by unpleasant odors. 

He supposed if he didn’t push through with it, they couldn’t do things like get close to each other, let alone snuggle. It put a twist in his stomach, relaxing as Kuroo’s lifted a finger to brush a lock of hair from his face, then press between his eyebrows, smoothing out a crease he hadn’t noticed form. 

_What’s wrong? You’re thinking again._ He mouthed slowly, tapping his temple to indicate. He was still obedient to Kenma’s order. 

“Ah,” Kenma sighed. “I don’t like this treatment, it makes me feel weird, Kuro. I’m being gross and clingy one moment, then suddenly I want to kick yo-- everything. I want _things_ to stop happening around me,” he said with a snort. “Some balance would be good, I guess.” 

Talking about it unfurled a knot in his chest; a sensation he never thought could never get rid of, and yet here he was, doing just that from talking to Kuroo, who he trusted enough to listen to him. He never really thought he’d have a person like that, other than Akaashi, nor did he ever consider the possibility of allowing anyone this close to him. 

_‘I like this. This is nice.’_ He thought. The way he was snug against Kuroo on the couch they spent so much time on, doing what they first excused as a ‘proxy’ but now this was… something genuine and something he could take hold of. Quite literally, as Kuroo was there, gazing at him with a thoughtful expression. His eyelashes were lowered like he was observing something; something interesting and Kenma understood, because Kuroo had laid out before what he liked about him, what kept his attention, and what kept it from wandering elsewhere. Refuting those reasons were normal to him but Kuroo had his sneaky ways of reminding him of his own qualities which had made him feel good about himself.  
Kuroo tapped his index finger to his own lips. 

Kenma pecked his lips. Such things felt natural, he barely paid it any thought. Plus, it got him the results he liked; a Kuroo caught off-guard.

As predicted, Kuroo gaped for a second before he spoke. “I was asking if I could speak,” he said. 

“Oh,” Kenma blushed. “Don’t complain,”

He grinned like he usually did, while slipping his arm over Kenma’s waist, tugging them close. “Not at all, kitten. Not at all~” 

“Why do you call me that?” Kenma groaned, his face just against Kuroo’s neck where the pheromones were strongest. He tried his best not to bury his nose there, he really did. 

“‘Cuz you’re like a cat, but you’re soooo small, so it’s only ri-- mm!”

Kenma clamped his teeth down on Kuroo’s shoulder, the most natural thing to do when he felt that brief flash of annoyance hearing Kuroo’s words. As he bit down, he inhaled in chocolate, licking and sucking the skin in a daze. The alpha was shivering under his grasp, released only when he grabbed Kenma by the shoulders and pried him off. 

The sudden jerk brought him back to stark reality. Then came confusion, then the wave of embarrassment, which turned into frustration. A hot feeling was spreading across his body in waves, contrasted by the sharp and cool scent of mint rolling off of him. 

Kuroo let him go like he got scalded. His hand flew up to his shoulder, touching where Kenma had bitten and nibbled and licked. Touching where Kenma had left this mark on him. 

“I’m going,” Kenma hissed, getting up from the couch with great effort, overcoming the desire to just stay there and keep in Kuroo’s presence. He doesn’t remember the last time he ran that fast, but before he knew it he had slammed shut the door to his room, fumbling with the locks, which he hadn’t used in quite some time. 

After he slid them into place he climbed over his bed, laying down on his stomach just so he could keep the erection straining against his sweatpants from standing. He clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will it away but to no use. He remained trembling on the bed, hot, itchy, the desire to take his clothes off in his mind. 

Was he in heat? He checked the schedule on his phone, discovering with surprise that he wasn’t. Could it have been the treatment messing up his cycle? 

No. 

It didn’t feel like heat. If this were heat he’d be looking for pheromones, and he would feel like he was drunk, his head fuzzy and his body would be covered in sensitive goosebumps. If this were heat he’d be thinking about going back and offering himself to Kuroo, to touch his skin and kiss him, to drag his tongue over the-- _Oh. He just thought about it._

But this was different, he was sure. Shimizu’s voice suddenly rang in his head. 

_...and an increase in libido over the next few weeks…_

This was libido. 

Libido. 

_Horny._

“Oh god,” he cringed, flipping over and checking under his waistband. _“Oh fucking god,”_ he hissed. It was still there, proudly strained against the fabric. 

Since this isn’t heat, he could just leave it alone, right? It’ll go away if he waits for it, right? He stared at his own erection for ten whole agonizing seconds, seconds that had thoughts of Kuroo creeping into it, and how Kenma had breathed in is scent and how they kissed and how he nibbled the tanned skin without really thinking about it, the thoughts of which sent him twitching. 

Just as he closed the app, Akaashi texted him.

Akaashi: _Would you and Kuroo like to go to an amusement park this weekend?_

Kenma: _Why_

Akaashi: _Bokuto wanted to go, but I thought it might be less conspicuous if we go as a group instead._

Kenma: _Im ok with it_  
_Question_  
_Are you at work rn_

Akaashi: _Yes. What’s wrong?_

Kenma: _So remember the treatment_  
_Side effects and whatever_  
_So_

He stopped typing there. He swallowed hard, checking under his waistband again. Unfortunately, he still had… his affliction. 

Akaashi: _Yes, I am aware of the side-effects. Should I fetch you anything?_

Kenma: _How do I deal with_  
_Feeling yknow_

Akaashi: _Excuse me?_

Kenma: _Akaashi._

Akaashi: _Okay, I understand. Give me a few moments._

Kenma was puzzled. While waiting he Googled for symptoms like him. He discovered they were common amongst omegas undergoing the same treatment, that they suffer the same ‘situation’ after close contact with an alpha and to solve it they just had to relieve themselves. It wasn’t like a heat, but it would happen pretty regularly. He scrolled through the forum.

_[anonymous_48103]: Honestly the best solution is to sleep with your alpha partner/mate!! That way you get to release and take in their pheromones. As an omega who slept with their mate before and after treatment, I can tell you it feels WAY better when your pheromones are in check. Your body is more responsive and_

Akaashi’s message popped up before he could read the rest of the reply. He opened the message and his eyes bulged out of the sockets at his message. It was a link to a video. 

_PETITE BLONDE OMEGA TWINK GETS RAILED BY ALPHA COCK_

He stared at the obnoxious title with an unimpressed grunt. Of course. 

He inhaled. Exhaled. Muting the volume on his phone, he tapped the video. It was only a little over 15 minutes long.

 _‘Might as well get it over with,’_

Kenma slipped his hand underneath the waistband of his boxers and sighed as he gripped himself with one hand, the other holding the phone to his face.  
The omega was ready on all fours over a bed, a collar with a bell to protect their slender neck where their long blonde hair parted, dangling past their shoulders. They were clad in lacy red lingerie with fishnet stockings attached to garter belts hugging their tapered waist. Between their legs hung their tiny cock, pink and small and already twitching in need. The alpha entered a moment later, a well-muscled and shirtless man with his dark hair messily swept back as if done by hands instead of a comb. He strutted over, teeming with confidence, dominance, in a pair of dark jeans which hugged the curve of his firm ass. He raised a hand, landing a swift slap to the omega’s bare ass. The blonde spread their mouth in a long moan, dipping their head head down to the sheets, presenting their entrance to the alpha. 

Kenma absentmindedly stroked himself, faint tingles of pleasure and warmth spreading throughout his body. He exhaled with a brief shudder, rubbing his thighs together. He bit down on his lip to keep any more sounds from escaping lest Kuroo hear him, come see the commotion, and find him. 

His cock twitched, and it took Kenma a lot to fling the idea from his mind. He focused on the video where the alpha was licking up the length of his thick middle and index fingers. He spread them to form a ‘v’ flicking his tongue at the camera with a wink and a smirk before shoving the fingers inside the omega. The omega’s knees shook as he took it in, grinding against the alpha’s palm in desperation responded with the fingers brusquely thrusted inside.

Kenma swallowed hard. He licked his lips while he mind wandered off to replay that dark-haired alpha’s cocky smirk in his head. His face heated up, Kuroo briefly replacing the pornstar in his mind. He rolled his head back as he raised his knees, letting go of his cock as he pulled off his sweatpants by the waistband, discarding them on the bed. The intensity of his own minty pheromones came as a surprise, along with the cool air that brushed over his nether regions. His cock throbbed for attention which he gladly paid it to, using the flat of his thumb to grind against his head. He gasped out loud, closing his legs while he pumped slowly, far more slowly than he had originally planned. Kuroo was _surely_ not the reason. 

Ah, he just got harder. 

Kuroo smirking over him remained in the back of his mind, taunting him as he tried to focus on the video, his own arousal; how stiff he was in his own hands, his sense of touch heightened, goosebumps all over his body that caused him to tremble half-naked and exposed to the air. He shuddered again, releasing a shaky breath as he slowly moved his hands up and down and up and down. His hips jerked and he suppressed another groan. Too much noise and he’d get found out, and he wasn’t sure how he’d take it if it would happen. 

_‘Please,’_ Kenma read on the blonde’s lips, _‘I want your cock!’_

The alpha undid their jeans in a quick motion with a single hand, their cock standing stiff and tall, engorged knot and all, which they pressed against the omega’s ass. The omega was impatient, squirming at the contact, attempting to angle their entrance at the cock but the alpha kept them obedient with a jerk of their wrist that had the blonde tensed up for a few moments before relaxing again, a provocative half-lidded stare aimed at the camera as they bit their bottom lip. The alpha pulled out their fingers slowly, coated well with the omega’s juices flowing like a stream between their fishnet-clad legs. 

Kenma sucked in a sharp breath. He parted his legs and spread his middle and index finger apart to hold his shaft in between, curling and massaging his fingers inward to stretch his entrance and stimulate his cock at the same time. He was wet, wetter than he had ever been in ages, dripping down the sheets but he hardly cared as he slipped that hand inside. His fingers were soaked immediately and it was so hot and incredibly slick. The initial strangeness of the feeling vanished almost immediately as he thrust his fingers to the alpha his gaze was so focused on. “Ooh...” he felt his chest loosen when he finally let out a noise. 

The alpha was now positioning himself in front of the omega’s waiting entrance. Using a hand, he guided the tip of his cock, rubbing against the moistened slit a few times before sliding it inside the dripping hole with a single smooth thrust, reaching all the way to his knot. 

Kenma’s breath hitched. He thrust deeper inside himself simultaneously as the alpha did. He moved his fingers with a ‘come hither’ motion, his fingers reaching deep. His body was licked by flames and the mint grew sweet as if mixed in with honey he could almost taste, licking his bottom lip as his fingers quickened. He pumped them in and out, hips jerking to meet every thrust, cock bouncing in the air flowing with precum that ran down his length, meeting his hot skin and dripping between his thumb and forefinger. 

A breath was caught in his throat as he slipped a third finger inside. He splayed his legs, granting himself access to push deeper, until he reached his knuckles. It wasn’t enough. His pleasure was felt like a candle that was dripping but would never melt to the end, not unless the flame would burn hotter, harder.

_‘More, more!’_

The alpha grabbed the omega’s hips and drove his cock in deep. He lurched over, baring his teeth to nip at the omega’s shoulder, leaving pink marks all over the pale skin. As he pulled himself upright a few locks of his dark hair had fallen over his face, forming a fringe just above his right eye. 

Kenma’s eyes widened at the stupid, stupid resemblance. It was just the spark he needed. He gulped down hard, suddenly invigorated as he fingered himself faster, his toes curling in the air, seemingly endless jolts of pleasure running down his body. He could even feel how stiff his nipples were, almost painful yet ticklish as they rubbed against the fabric of his shirt. He wanted all his clothes off, it was so hot and he was sweating with so much effort to get himself off to the thought of Kuroo doing it for him, as he does many things, and then _doing_ him on the bed. 

_‘I shouldn’t be thinking about that. Focus on the video,’_ he told himself, knowing full well Kuroo with his messy hair crawling over to finger him instead was indelible as black ink on a white sheet of paper. No matter how much Kenma rubbed at it, it did nothing but smear. And rubbing one out he was, to the image of Kuroo above him, wiggling his fingers with a teasing grin. He’d stick out his tongue and lick up and all over his digits, coating them carefully before inserting it inside Kenma. His fingers would be thicker, longer than Kenma’s and they would reach deeper than he had ever fingered himself. Kenma gasped and bucked his hips. 

_‘Video, video,’_ he reminded himself. It was difficult to wrench himself from his own imagination. He shouldn’t have to work hard to think about what Kuroo might do to him when he wasn’t in heat, that’s what the damn porno was for! 

The alpha licked his lips while admiring his work on the omega’s shoulder. He hooked his finger around the collar, tugging up the blonde to his chest, and with a single hand gathered the blonde’s wrists behind their back while fucking them mercilessly. The other hand let go of the collar to fondle the omega’s pink nipple, rolling it with a thumb. Together they kissed, exchanging sloppy, tongue-filled kisses that made Kenma’s lips tingle with the memory. He let out a low moan, briefly putting down the phone to pull up his shirt. The cool air was hell on his twitching nipples which stuck out, begging to be tweaked and tugged by a certain alpha’s hands, just like the video. To be held that close to him, to be filled by him, and to be kissed and fucked like no tomorrow, Kenma wanted nothing more. 

Awfully convenient he remembered just then: _Don’t think. Just enjoy it._

“Fuck it,” he hissed, tossing the phone aside. With his free hand he reached down to his navel and lightly trailed his fingers upwards, eliciting shivers and goosebumps throughout his body, ending at his left nipple. He imagined his hand to be Kuroo’s; large and tender like the way he holds his hand. Only this time it tweaks his nipple, rolling it between the thumb and forefinger. He bucked his hips again, imagining the alpha’s mouth to curl upwards, pleased with his reaction, those hazel eyes focused deep on Kenma’s half-naked and trembling body. 

“Kuro,” he mumbled to himself. A shudder ran through his body that left him feeling electrified and tingling all over. Kuroo would no doubt be pleased to hear his name from Kenma’s lips, (he was weird like that) and would reward him, perhaps, with a few kisses. But Kenma would tell him he wanted more than that, that he should go ahead, kiss him down below and put his tongue to work and suck him off (just like Kenma did with his neck). His cock twitched and he was so wet he could feel it on the sheets. He let go of his nipple to grasp his head, spreading the precum all over. Slick and warm, like a tongue that should really be there.

 _Kenma,_ Kuroo would whisper in his deep voice, his breath hot and teasing against Kenma’s neck. _Are you close?_ He’d ask, followed by a nip to his jaw and some kisses of their own while he nodded, approaching the peak of his arousal.

_Cum for me._

Kenma jerked his hips, heels digging into the bed while he arched his back as he moaned, splattering cum all over his stomach. The orgasm left his head completely blank and his body utterly numbed to other sensations; just the feeling of ecstasy that coursed through him. He could feel his chest rapidly rise and fall as he relaxed on the bed. 

Slowly, his other senses returned. A sheen of sweat had covered his skin; his limbs were heavy from all the exertion (particularly his wrists), the smell of mint, strong and sweet, and the sticky cum all over his stomach. And it was a lot; far more than he ever recalled cumming in a long time. There was a thought in his head and Kenma swallowed. His throat was parched and dry. 

Was it the treatment, or was it Kuroo? 

_‘Treatment,_ he said to himself, flushing as he recalled the two digits being licked. He continued insisting ‘treatment’, each time remembering the different, made-up scenarios. Frustrated he couldn’t reconcile the two sides of the argument (it was treatment, he swore), he sat up and removed his shirt, groaning as his movements made his lower half tingle still. 

With a groan, he forced himself off the bed and into the shower.  


\---

 _‘I want to die. I’m such a loser.’_

Kenma hugged his knees to his chest as he let the shower wash him with hot water. Maybe if he waited long enough, the tub would fill up and he’d get boiled to death. His skin was red and raw from the water which he appreciated, because it took away from the tingling sensation in his lower half.

Now that he was no longer basking in the afterglow, he was filled with shame.

It was one thing to imagine Kuroo during his heat. Fine, that was fair because their pheromones were interacting. But consciously? He felt like a lead weight had been dropped in his stomach. 

The strangeness came from their familiarity. Kuroo was no longer a stranger he just happened to be living with. He and Kuroo were… a ‘thing’ now. 

_‘It felt good. That was the most I’ve cum in ages. Should I have… not run away? Should I have asked him to-- No.’_

But why was he being so stubborn about it? That was natural for boyfriends, right? 

“Oh my god,” he groaned. _‘I think I might be okay with the idea._

Eventually he got out of the tub after scrubbing himself clean and free of anything minty. He cracked open a window to let the room air out, spotting his cacti. They were thriving on his windowsill. Their colors were a brighter green than he had ever seen them, and the spines stuck out from the plant, sharp and intimidating. He spent so much time outside of his room that he never really noticed until now. He’d simply water the pots every once in a while then leave. 

“Huh,” he said to himself. After changing into new clothes, he sat on the edge of the bed, taking his phone. He shut the tab with the stupid porno and texted Akaashi.

Kenma: _I hate you._

Akaashi: _30 minutes. You’re welcome._

Kenma: _I took a shower_  
_A long shower to cleanse myself_

Akaashi: _How sinful._

Kenma: _Again I hate you_  
_That was so intentional and so specific what have you been doing_  
_Should I be concerned_

Akaashi: _When you’re Bokuto’s secretary, you’ll learn how to Google anything and everything just to satisfy him._

Kenma: _You dont have to google anything_  
_Im sure you can satisfy him with your smart little mouth_  
_*brain_

Akaashi: _Touché._

Kenma: _How did you even google this werent you at work_

Akaashi: _Janitor’s closet._

Kenma: _Lots of good memories you have there_  
_Like the time you cried_  
_And then googled porn_

Akaashi: _Oh shush. It was for you._

Kenma: _I didn’t ask for porn_

Akaashi: _[sent 1 image file]_

It was a screenshot of Kenma asking Akaashi how he dealt with ‘yknow’ over 30 minutes ago. 

Akaashi: _You did ask. I simply delivered. It’s the most efficient way to deal with it._

Kenma: _I still hate you_

Akaashi: _Duly noted._  
_We’re going to the amusement park this Saturday. Be ready by noon._

Kenma: _ >:( _

Akaashi: _:-)_

Kenma scoffed, shoving the phone in his pocket.He got up and He stood up, stared at his bed, and sighed, shoulders drooping.

Carrying shame in his heart and mind, Kenma bundled up his sheets and tossed them into the hamper. He’ll deal with it later when it was late. He groaned internally at the effort of having to carry all that downstairs, sit through the wash cycle, and shove it in the dryer. Cleaning up was part of why he hated jerking off. Tacked at the end was usually shame, or a feeling of annoyance. This time he felt neither; actually he felt like his whole body was light and each step had an inexplicable spring to it. 

Groaning at this new development, he pocketed his phone and approached the door. His Switch was still downstairs and he thought he should go get it and duck back inside his room. 

Unfortunately his head collided with Kuroo’s chest as he stepped out. 

He had to bite his cheek to remind himself not to inhale. “Kuro, what the hell,” he said, focusing hard on the lines between the floor tiles. 

“U-uh,” 

Kenma glanced up to see Kuroo blushing while holding onto that area of his neck where Kenma had bit. He flushed in response; now both of them were standing around, a pair of flustered idiots.

Kuroo spoke first and Kenma immediately hated it. “So uh…side-effects. Is that what this,” he raised the hand that covered his neck, “was all about?”

“Shut it.” Kenma said, slowly swinging the door closed as he retreated to his room. 

“If you want me to, I--!” 

He stopped. He cracked open the door just a bit, and it was almost worth it to see this mixture of emotion; this embarrassed, bashful, expression like he was a young boy gathering all his courage to confess his crush on a girl. 

“You what?” Kenma asked, narrowing his eyes. His annoyance was bubbling at the back of his throat. 

“...Now I don’t want to say it because you sound mad,”

Kenma stuck his foot out the door just to try and kick him. “Spit it out,”

“‘Kay, jeez!” Kuroo coughed a few times. “I said, if you want me to, I could help you with your uh, _problem,_ ”

Kenma blinked. “Okay,” he said, slamming the door in Kuroo’s face. His heart beat against his chest as he rested his back against the door, sliding down to hug his knees. His mind was racing with thoughts and questions but all of them led to one answer.

Should it ever happen, Kenma was okay with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off: Shout-out to Mookie for coming up with the smut scene, and Ella for helping me write it! :D
> 
> Now, I know this update it suuuper late but I got busy as it is currently May. I wanted this out on Kuroken day but yeaaa, life caught up with me...
> 
> With that being said, I do hope you guys can survive off this chapter while I go on hiatus (again). I made sure to fill it with lots of fluff (and some well-earned smut that ABO is known for ;)) I will be back by June, and I'll edit the story's description to inform everyone as well! 
> 
> In case you still want kuroken content I make, feel free to follow me on  Twitter @ Danmujiji where I post doodles and drawings which are less time consuming for me to do than write :o
> 
> Thanks for all the support!! We reached 500+ kudos recently and I honestly can't believe it? You guys are amazing!!


	22. Double Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amusement park double-date containing competitions with Bokuto, "real talk", and an anticipated surprise kiss.

Ever since the day he told Kuroo he was okay with sex, Kenma had been aware of every single glance and touch Kuroo sent his way. Most innocuous gesture, such as when he'd hand Kenma a glass, their fingers touch, and Kenma's brain would turn to fuzz. He'd never let it show, however, or at the very least Kuroo never noticed. He'd carry on with his little gestures, smug expressions, barking laughter, and boyish grins without a care for what they did to Kenma. Sometimes Kenma wanted to ask if it was all on purpose, or if he was just as on edge (if he could call it that) as he was. But whenever the curiosity was just about to overcome him, or when the opportunity presented itself Kenma would find Kuroo pulling him close on the couch, and he didn't want to ruin the moment by asking, 'hey, are you by any chance horny, and are you doing this on purpose?' So he let himself get cuddled and kissed, trying not to think too hard on it. Kuroo wouldn't pressure him, that much he knew.

Well, there were exceptions to that. Such as when Kuroo pressured him to wake up early that weekend so they could fetch Bokuto and Akaashi to go to the amusement park. 

"Kenma! Keeenma!" Kuroo yelled and knocked against his door. He made other such noises at ass(eight)-o'clock in the morning, telling him to shower, dress, and pack up. Kenma did so groggily, and biting back rooster-related insults and complying with instructions. Worst out if it all was how Kuroo clapped and praised him like he was a toddler who had just handed in a very ugly drawing of their parent. 

"Wow Kenma, very good!" He snickered. "And you did this all by yourself?" 

Kenma groaned, not having it for the morning. "Kuro..." 

Kuroo rubbed his head, "C'mon now, it's time to fetch 'em,"

It left his face all sorts of warm, so he nodded, letting his hair cover most of it. It was worse in the car where they were in a closed space together, and Kuroo just _had_ to reach over, his wrist sliding over Kenma’s thigh for a brief moment just so he could buckle his seatbelt for him. The touch shot Kenma’s thoughts to the very end of his consciousness, and Kuroo had to call out a few times for him to snap out of it. After insisting he was fine, and that they shouldn’t cancel, they went right on to Bokuto’s place; a penthouse located at the very top of the Fukuro towers, a high-rise condominium edging the A-blocks. The tower made him grimace as it shone in the morning sun like a lighthouse persistent on beaming light into Kenma’s eyeballs. 

“Let’s wait for them in the car,” Kenma said, firmly braced on the seat. 

Unfortunately Kuroo decided against that because he had his… suspicions. From his smirk alone, Kenma could tell whatever nasty thought he was thinking, then felt like he couldn’t judge him because all this time he had been following the same lines of thought, albeit with him and Kuroo as the subjects. 

Kuroo’s hunch was correct when they arrived. Bokuto was all smiles and noise, so energetic and so unabashed with all his hickeys on proud display. Akaashi was the opposite, as he struggled to maintain eye contact, nor his composure while Kenma stared at him and all the marks dotting his neck despite the turtleneck he wore. He could smell pine and wet earth from it, suggesting it was Bokuto’s, meaning Akaashi likely spent the night over. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto strode over and clapped Kenma on the shoulder, nearly toppling him over had it not been for Kuroo’s arm catching him.

“Watch it, Bo.” Kuroo growled, holding Kenma close. Kenma held his breath, expecting a fight to break out, but Bokuto just apologized, and he could feel Kuroo’s body relax. His own heart was thumping against his chest, the mixture of alarm and relief sending him alert. Akaashi was tensed as well, though he kept behind Bokuto. 

“C’mon, I was just greeting your boyfriend!” He groaned. “‘Sides, he and I never talk, Kuroo! Hey Kenma-- Kenma, right? It didn’t even hurt that much, right?” 

Kenma shook his head stiffly, frozen by the sudden barrage of words. “N-not really. I just got surprised.” 

Kuroo sighed, loosening his grip on Kenma. He pointed a finger at Bokuto, snorting. “Just be more careful next time, ‘kay?” 

“Roger~” Bokuto saluted, Kuroo’s annoyance just sliding off of him. Kenma was suddenly glad for that blockheadedness of his, though Kuroo being more high-strung than usual surprised him. 

Despite that brief argument (if Kenma could even call it that) the two alphas settled into their usual routine of jokes and banter, while Kenma and Akaashi were left together. Akaashi was the one who insisted they walk behind as to keep up appearances, after all their relationship was supposed to be a secret. And yet, Kenma took one look at the beta and sniffed, earning a subtle grimace from him. 

Kenma lowered his voice. “So I thought… you wanted to take it slow,”

“Please don’t remind me,” Akaashi closed his eyes as if remembering something unpleasant.

“What ever happened?” Kenma asked, oh-so-innocently. “Akaashi could it be that…” he glanced around, and beckoned him to lean close for him to whisper, “You are a whore?” He teased.

Maybe Kuroo was rubbing on him. 

Akaashi, true to his name, had turned a bright red. “Listen, I know I’ve said some things,”

“Mhmm,” Kenma nodded, not really listening. “Just don’t think too hard about it.” 

Kuroo was definitely rubbing off on him. Not that he’d stop, when Akaashi was opening and closing his mouth like a fish in an attempt to defend himself. Now Kenma understood why Kuroo provoked people. 

Akaashi would remain quite red while Bokuto was blissfully unaware, all the way up the car. Not that Akaashi would have wanted Bokuto to notice, Kenma thought. If Bokuto did, he would have likely fretted or overreacted. He still didn’t understand Bokuto for the most part, but if he (or… ‘it?’) Made Akaashi happy, he’ll tolerate it, he supposed. 

Though, it was another thing to be stuck in a car with him. 

For three hours.

Not even Akaashi could keep him quiet for long. When told to keep quiet, he'd say yes with the expression of a lovestruck puppy, quiet down for ten seconds, before opening his mouth again. h to say something. 

His noise reached the point where Kuroo had to pull over and make him and Bokuto switch positions with him on the front seat in an attempt to have him stop backseat driving. From the way they bristled at each other, Kenma was certain they were only a stoplight away from punching it out at the front before they’d snort and start laughing at whatever random thing crossed their minds. He didn’t quite understand how the friendship worked just yet, but at the very least he and Akaashi were glad they haven’t crashed because of the two dumb alphas. 

Kenma: _I think bokuto’s a black hole_

Akaashi: _Of what, braincells?_

Kenma: _Exactly. Kuro’s not usually like an idiot but together with bokuto he becomes one big idiot and i really dont get it_

Akaashi: _You should see the three of them together: Bokuto, Kuroo, and their other friend Oikawa. They’re a riot and I’m the police._

Kenma snorted, lightly smacking Akaashi’s arm who reacted with mild surprise. 

Akaashi: _Well now._

Kenma: _What_

Akaashi: _I think you’ve made a good choice. You’ve changed a little._  
Kenma: _...not THAT much_

Akaashi: _Even your text has gotten more expressive lately. I don’t think you’ve ever slapped me of your own free will like that in ages. Ever, even, It’s a little amusing, to be honest._

Kenma: _You’re getting pretty chatty yourself_  
_Seems like he’s also rubbing off on you_  
_Or rubbing himself off you_  
Akaashi: _You’re despicable, just like your boyfriend._

Kenma: _So contradictory_  
_Whatever happened to ‘i think kuroo’s a good person’_  
Akaashi: _I don’t recall. I must have been drunk._

Kenma kicked Akaashi, displaying a face that wasn’t the least bit apologetic. 

Akaashi snorted, stifling his own laugh while Kenma rolled his eyes, hiding a chuckle behind his phone. While Kuroo and Bokuto had their banter, Kenma and Akaashi had their own, and it sufficed for the three-hour long drive. 

\---

“I want to go home,” Kenma muttered, overwhelmed at the sight of the crowds swarming the amusement park. “Maybe we can still refund the ticket, Kuro.”

“Nuh-uh,” Kuroo said, raising his wrist strap. “We paid good money for these, y’know? Unlimited fast passes for all rides and shows! Don’t waste it now,”

“Bokuto paid for them. He’s filthy rich, it shouldn’t matter.” 

“Oh stop being such a drag,” Kuroo offered his hand to Kenma, who stared at it for a second before taking it. “See? I’ll be here, you’ll be fine.” 

Kenma groaned again, allowing himself to be pulled along by Kuroo, leading them back to Bokuto and Akaashi who were inspecting the map.

"We should do the rollercoasters first!" Bokuto said, pointing at the mass of rails and loop-de-loops in the distance. The cars whooshed past accompanied by the excited screams of the riders, making Kenma feel their excitement drop in his stomach. 

As the "leader" of the group, Bokuto led them through the crowd towards the rides he wanted. Kenma was glad Kuroo was tall and could spot Bokuto, who nearly blended into the crowd with his black cap, and all he had to do was walk where he was being guided, his eyes glued to his phone screen. The one thing keeping his full focus away from his game was Kuroo's hand warm on his shoulder. Every once in a while he'd feel like Kuroo was rubbing circles on his shoulder, but when he'd focus on the sensation it was nothing more than their usual, casual touch.

 _Stop that. This doesn't help anyone._

Later on, Kuroo would tease him about how his nose was all wrinkled up like he smelled something unpleasant, tell him to relax (referring to the crowds) then actually massage slow circles into his shoulder blades deliberately, as if he knew what Kenma had been thinking about. Then, all too soon before he could say anything about it, Kuroo would stop or pull away and focus elsewhere, leaving Kenma confused but mostly wondering once more if he was overthinking. He was infuriated, and only when he decided to stop thinking so much about it when he realized he was being strapped into the car of a rollercoaster. 

"Ah."

"What, nervous?" Kuroo asked. "You little scaredy cat~" 

"No," Kenma said. "I was just thinking." _About you._

"About me?" He said with a cheeky grin.

"No."

"Liar~ You're totally in love with me." 

At the same time, Kuroo held his hand as if to reassure him. Kenma squeezed back. 

The rollercoaster moved. It was a slow start, with the cars climbing up the rails, the air filled with their distinct chugging. They kept their hands clasped tight. Squeezing harder as they ascended. Before them, Bokuto and Akaashi were talking between each other but Kenma couldn't hear their conversation over the pounding of his heart against his eardrums. His throat felt dry as they slowed to a halt at the peak of the rails.

"Hey, Kenma?" 

He looked at Kuroo, who was red for some reason. Kenma thought he had no right to be, not when he didn't have to think about things like intimacy and sex.

"I think I-"

They fell. Kuroo's words turned to screams. Kenma gripped his hand so hard his own fingers were straining and he caught his own yell in his chest, straining to be released as they zipped through the ride. Bokuto threw his hands up, screaming his head off while Akaashi's knuckles were white from gripping the restraints. They swerved left and right, up and down, over and under, through loops and railways which seemed to go on forever like a red string. 

By the time they stopped, Kenma was breathless and invigorated. Beside him Kuroo was panting like he had just run a full marathon, Bokuto wanted to go again, again, while Akaashi's head was tilted back, his face still though his complexion reflects discomfort. 

Once they had him settled down, to Kenma's surprise Bokuto apoligized to the beta. It felt like he was a massive dog whining an apology to its master for having caused an accident. Akaashi kept telling him it was alright, and that he didn't need to kneel on the ground like that.

To Kenma's surprise, Kuroo wasn't snickering at the display, nor was he cracking jokes. He was staring at the two with a satisfied expression. 

"Sweet, isn't it?" He said. 

Kenma shook his head. "Embarrassing, you mean."

"Hey, before he used to just do whatever he wanted, fuck the consequences, y’know? I wouldn't have expected him to apologize to Akaashi, let alone kneel for him."

"We're in public."

Kuroo snorted, and rubbed Kenma's head. His fingers lingered to twirl the blonde strands at the back, of which Kenma noticed only then, how long his hair had grown that they rested over his shoulders. 

"I should get a haircut," he mumbled. 

"What? You should grow it all the way out. I like it that way."

"All the more reason to cut it," he sighed, joking internally. He kind of liked hearing that.

"Kenma, c'mon! Just keep it growing, it makes it nice and easy to play with."

Suddenly his mind was filled with thoughts of Kuroo tugging his hair, exposing his throat to his nibbles and kisses. His hand shot up to the back of his neck, and Kuroo jumped away from him as if burned. 

It was very faint, as if somebody had passed by with an ice cream cone; the scent of mint and chocolate mingling. 

It left Kenma's skin with goosebumps, and his face heated. Kuroo was likewise affected: he had goosebumps too, and he had always been shy if caught off guard. Now he was avoiding Kenma's eyes (which Kenma was grateful for), the tips of his ears red, and his voice as he called out to Bokuto and Akaashi carrying less tones of impatience and teasing than usual.

\---

Despite the small hang-ups with his slight motion sickness, Akaashi insisted they go on the other roller coasters. Bokuto whined all the way, for once upset his boyfriend was trying to fulfill his wishes. Kenma also wondered if he was rubbing off on Akaashi from the way the beta was stubbornly insisting on getting on the ride despite the ailments.

"I think I’ll fare better the more I ride." He told them, as he leaned against Bokuto. "It's fine. I'm fine." 

"Like hell you are!" Bokuto gestured to his back, offering him a piggyback ride.

“Please, you really don’t have to, I’m--” Akaashi doubled over and groaned. 

Kenma went over to rub his back while Kuroo fetched him some water. In the end, Akaashi relented, now recuperating on Bokuto who looked quite pleased with himself yet determined, like a boy who had been given a very important ‘mission’ by an adult. 

They took Akaashi to a nearby restaurant to recuperate. With a couple more drinks he was already looking better, though quite embarrassed to have been carried to his seat. There, he apologized for the trouble he caused.

“I felt like I would have been a downer if I wasn’t participating,” he told them, looking down at his drink and fiddling with the straw. 

“That’s true, Akaashi! I would have felt bad if you were just hanging around, but I feel worse if you were forcing yourself! Just say you want to relax, and we’ll let you!” 

Bokuto slapped him on the back grinning broadly and Akaashi grunted in pain, though not without a faint smile on his lips. 

“Alright, I suppose.” He said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Akaashi, I already said it’s okay!” Bokuto whined. 

Kenma took his phone to type a message.

Kenma: _So sad being a senior citizen at your age_

Akaashi glanced at his phone and said: “We’re the same age, Kozume.” 

He decided to put away the phone and reply as well. “And yet you’re getting headaches from rollercoasters. Have fun holding our bags and taking our pictures.”

Bokuto snorted. “Oh my god,”

Kuroo joined in, “Welcome to the senior citizen’s club Akaashi,” he offered his hand. 

To everyone’s surprise, Akaashi shook it. “Pleased to meet your acquaintance, old sport.”

After they shared a chuckle over their silliness, they decided to order lunch. The restaurant was one of the generic, vaguely Wild West-themed restaurants with cow prints, mounted bull horns, horseshoe decorations, and wagon wheel lights. The food was average, but Kuroo and Bokuto made do with their steaks, Akaashi with his salad, and Kenma with his club sandwich, which Kuroo said ‘broke the immersion of the restaurant’ a term which he undoubtedly picked up on one of Kenma’s game rants. 

Kenma was picking through his sandwich for tomatoes and having Akaashi eat them for him when Kuroo caught their attention.

“So hey, Bo and I were thinking…” 

For some reason, Kenma had a bad feeling, given that smuggish look Kuroo was giving him. 

“If we were to get into an alpha-alpha relationship, who would bottom?”

Akaashi stopped chewing and Kenma’s fork dropped a tomato on the table. 

“Excuse me?” Akaashi was nonplussed.

“Real talk,” Kuroo said.

“Akaashi please,” Bokuto’s hands were clasped together. “You know who’ll top, right?”

“Kenma, I know you got this in the bag,” Kuroo said with utter confidence that Kenma would choose him. “Take all the time you need to think _very well_ about this.”

To his own amusement, it didn’t take Kenma much thinking at all. In fact, the information he needed to arrive at a conclusion seemed to line itself up like a flowchart. He waited a bit, then Kenma looked at Akaashi who had settled himself, and for a split second they both shared a mutual understanding; a unanimous decision over who would bottom in a relationship composed of two blockheaded alphas. Their eyes said: _on three. One, two, three._

“You.” They both said, pointing to their respective boyfriends. 

“What?!” Their respective boyfriends cried out in unison. 

_Excuse me?_ Kenma and Akaashi glared at each other; their bond of understanding broken. _I thought we had a moment!_

“No, no,” Bokuto shook his head, wagging his finger at them. “Try again, Akaashi!”

Kuroo was both nodding and shaking his head while trying to make sense of the answers given to him, that he looked like bobblehead.

“It makes sense if you were the bottom, Bokuto. You’re quite childish, but despite your frequent and wild mood swings, once coaxed into behaving, you do so quite well. Kuroo here is closest to you, no doubt knowing your ins and outs,” he stopped to glare at Kenma who snorted, “Therefore he should know how to deal with you, in more ways than one.”

Kuroo clapped Bokuto’s shoulder. “As your new hypothetical top, I will devote myself to knowing your ins and outs, Bo.”

Bo shrugged his hand off, pouting like a child. “How could you betray me like this, Akaashi! I’m your boyfriend!” 

“Wait,” Kenma spoke. 

Bokuto’s eyes were gleaming. Kuroo squinted at him, as if challenging him to go on and say something that could defeat whatever Akaashi said. Without breaking eye contact, he reached for his glass of iced tea and took a slow sip.

“Yes, yes! Prove him wrong, Kenma!” Bokuto said, then with a softer voice, “No hard feelings, ‘Kaashi,” 

“None whatsoever,” Akaashi told him. Though his half-lidded gaze at Kenma was quite withering. “None at all.” 

It just made him want to prove both of the senior citizens wrong. “I-I think Kuroo would bottom because he’s weaker than Bokuto. Physically.”

“Hey, hey, hey! He’s right! I can beat Kuroo in an arm wrestling match any day!”

“That’s because you’re a goddamn beast! I know _control._ ”

“Kuroo’s also… Domesticated? Like, he just doesn’t have as much initiative,” he told them. He thought about what he had just said about Kuroo and initiative, and wondered if he himself meant it about their own circumstances. Did _he_ want Kuroo to take initiative? Kenma decided he should stop thinking about that. 

Akaashi rubbed his chin. “That’s… not entirely false. I can see the reasoning behind it.”

“Kenma’s saying you’re a fucking animal, Bo. A big ol’ feral bitch.”

“Um, according to your boyfriend, if this animal were your current boyfriend, he’d fucking top you, so I think you should shut up.” Bokuto said, wagging his palm in front of Kuroo, a look of triumphant smugness all over his face. 

“Real mature, Bo! That’s why your boyfriend thinks you’re a bottom. And Kenma, how could you?” He faced the omega, a look of faux-hurt on his face.

“You asked…” He muttered. “I just answered.”

Kuroo snorted. “You don’t honestly think I’d bottom because of that, right?” 

“Who knows?” Kenma said, quite enjoying the way Kuroo’s jaw dropped. 

“No!”

“Kuro, it’s just pretend.” He honestly didn’t understand at first why it was so important between the two alphas who topped and bottomed. It was a matter to do with their pride it seemed, which made him think about how omegas almost always bottomed. What did that mean about omega pride? His pride?

“Alpha-alpha top-bottom dynamics,” Akaashi added. “All hypotheticals, of which you shouldn’t be bothered by.” 

Bokuto slung his arm around Kuroo’s shoulders, pulling him into a painful-looking hug. “Yeah, Kuroo! It’s just all pretend, y’know? You bottoming, me topping you, it’s all just fuuun!” 

Kuroo was attempting to squirm out of his friend’s grip but it proved useless. “Let me go you stupid bear! You’re crushing me! I give, I give!” He gasped with relief the moment he was released and rubbed his sides. “Jeez… I think you crushed something.”

“Sucks to be old,” Kenma said. “Senior citizens like you should stay out of amusement parks.”

Bokuto guffawed. His laugh was loud just like every part of him, and it left Kenma wondering if his joke was really that funny, or if he really can’t modulate his vocal levels. 

“You’re funny, Kenma!”

“Um, thank you.” He said, not really knowing how to respond to that. 

“We should hang out more! Can we, Kuroo?” 

“Why’re you asking me? Just ask him,” he grumbled, hunched over the table, still rubbing his sides.

“Let’s hang out today, Kenma!” Bokuto was beaming and Kenma almost had to squint just to handle his smile.

“W-we kind of already are…” He said. 

“Not like this! I mean, just the two of us!”

“Hey now,” Kuroo said. A thump noise came from under the table, and Bokuto groaned. 

“Don’t kick me! I meant like, chill stuff! What do you like, Kenma? Do you like rollercoasters?” He continued barraging Kenma with all sorts of questions, none of which went answered though it did little to bother Bokuto. 

Kenma had to admire that sort of… ‘tenacity’ if he had to say it. Just the way he moves on from anything without thinking of the hang-ups along the way. 

“Maybe we can go do the stall games,” he told Bokuto. He saw a couple of stalls here and there, offering prizes like toys, balloons, and other knick-knacks he doubted adults would take any interest in, but Bokuto didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. 

“That’s a great idea! We should go, right now!” He stood up, then was pulled back down by Kuroo. 

“Finish your food first! Kenma, you too!” 

Kenma groaned. “Typical old fart,” he muttered. 

\---  
“So I have an idea.” 

Groans came from Kuroo and Akaashi. Bokuto huffed at their reactions. 

“C’mon, it’s not gonna be _that_ bad!” 

Kenma doubted that, based on the expressions of Kuroo and Akaashi. Despite him being Bokuto’s boyfriend, it seemed he wasn’t just going to humor his every whim. 

Bokuto grinned. “Let’s make a bet! Whoever gets the higher score on every stall wins, best out of ten!” 

Now that piqued his attention. 

“Kenma, don’t take the bait. He’ll be annoying you for a rematch forever,” Kuroo warned him. 

He wasn’t going to completely ignore that (and the fact Kuroo already assumed his win was reassuring in a way), but at the same time he was curious just how he could fare against an alpha on such a competition, and if he could validate what his boyfriend believed. 

“Well I suppose one round wouldn’t hurt. What should we do first?” He asked Bokuto, whose grin widened at his acceptance. Kenma wanted to look away immediately; it was quite like staring at the sun, and he wondered if Akaashi was blinded at this point. 

“There!” He pointed at a shooting game with a Wild West theme, near the restaurant. The game was as simple as it appeared: whoever shot the greatest amount of cans off the table won. They would play for two rounds, with Bokuto going first, and Kenma after. They had to negotiate for a bit to allow Kenma to play with the same type of pellet gun and even the same type of cans, but it was quickly settled with a word from Kuroo. 

“It’s pretty dumb, yeah?” Bokuto said, earning some surprise from Kenma. “I mean, it’s not like you’re a twig or anything, you can keep up with Kuroo, so you can keep up with me too!”

“Thanks. I mean, everyone’s kind of a twig compared to you.” He mumbled, hoisting the gun up to feel its weight. It was quite heavier than he anticipated, but nothing he couldn’t handle, just as Bokuto said. 

Bokuto gasped. “Akaashi! Kenma complimented me, I think! He said I was humongous!” He yelled over to the beta, who returned his statement with a thumbs up as he and Kuroo watched from the sidelines. Kenma heard Kuroo tell Akaashi that when it came to games he preferred to keep distractions at a minimum so they should stay back, and he was right. His chest fluttered, knowing how Kuroo remembered these little details. 

Leaned over the table, Bokuto hummed as he aimed the gun at a tin, and pulled the trigger. It twanged against the tin, nudging it over the platform, and right onto the ground. Bokuto burst into such loud cheer Kenma jumped. 

“Hey, hey, hey! Nice shot!” 

He glanced at Akaashi. _He congratulates himself?_

Akaashi nodded back. _Indeed, he congratulates himself._

The alpha continued to shoot can after can, with a good amount of them hitting the ground with a metallic clatter. Seldom did he miss, and when he did he’d groan out loud like he had lost all his earnings on a final gamble. In the end, he shot ten out of fifteen cans to the ground. 

“Hm,” Kenma stepped forward, and waited for the attendant to rearrange the cans again. While doing so, the lady shot him a smile that told him just how much of a mean prank it was to pit an omega against an alpha. 

Something bubbled in the pit of his stomach that made him want to prove himself. He shot Kuroo a look, and the small wave and wink he received in return suddenly made the weight of the pellet gun heavier in his hands. 

_Crush him, Kenma._ Kuroo’s smile seemed to suggest. 

_‘Well now it’s a job I have to do, it’s suddenly a pain…’_ He thought. 

He lifted the gun the way Bokuto did: an arm stretched to support the barrel, while keeping it level to his chest. Though initially comfortable, the weight soon proved itself to be a detriment to Kenma’s score, as he very slowly, accumulated a total of seven cans out of fifteen. Not terrible for a first time, but it was nowhere near the points he wanted. (All fifteen, naturally.)

Bokuto clapped him on the back hard, causing him to grunt in pain and nearly drop the gun. He fumbled with it before coughing politely, some wind knocked out of his lungs from the impact. Kenma dared not to look at Kuroo’s face then, keeping his gaze right on the now-empty stands. He slackened his grip on the gun, taking a deep breath. 

“Don’t worry about it! You still have another round!” Bokuto said. 

While waiting for his next and final turn, Kenma was analyzing his previous play. It wasn’t much different from how he goes with digital games, but he had to take his own physical strength as well as how Bokuto was playing into account. He noted the gun’s weight, the positions of the cans, their weight based on how Bokuto’s bullets hit. Where should he aim on the can to guarantee it falls, and even the wind direction came into brief focus at some point. 

He was thinking so hard that they had to call him a number of times to get his attention. By then, the cans had been arranged for him, and all that was left was to shoot and score. 

“Um, how many did you get?” He asked Bokuto. 

“Aww, you weren’t paying attention! I got nine...” He looked upset about it, scowling.

“Okay,” he said, stepping forward.

The first shot was a miss. He then adjusted his grip and stance.

The second was a hit, but it didn’t knock the can out. He repositioned himself again. Kenma noted how the recoil affected the trajectory of the bullet slightly.

The third shot was a hit, this time sending the can flying. Without a word he kept his posture, aim, and breathing still, walking down while shooting every subsequent can to the ground. 

"Damn." Kuroo said. 

"Agreed." Akaashi said.

 _"What?!"_ Bokuto cried out.

Kenma looked around him. Even the lady was stunned at his results, shooting thirteen out of fifteen cans. It put him one point ahead of Bokuto. 

Kuroo approached him and Kenma tensed for a second, only to be placed in a tight hug, lifting him off the floor. 

"That was amazing," Kuroo whispered in his ear. "You crushed Bo," 

Kenma tensed further for a split-second before relaxing. He mumbled some thanks in reply as he was set back down. 

As he righted himself, Kuroo turned to depressed-looking Bokuto who was being lectured by Akaashi on his weak points, and raised a middle finger at him, the most smug expression spread across his face.

"Loser~" 

"S-shut up! I'll have him next time!" 

Kuroo cackled and Kenma found satisfaction swelling in his chest. 

"Please don't get too excited, Bokuto. You need to learn how to temper your energy," said Akaashi. He went on about Bokuto's other weaknesses which didn't seem to help his mood, but once Akaashi reminded him this was Kenma's first time competing against an alpha like this, the novelty won him over and he was back to his normal noisy and enthusiastic self.

So they went on to try and challenge the stalls. Ring toss, darts, water gun shooting, strength tests, among many others. They avoided the stalls that were similar to ones they had already played in, ending up with only ten stalls. Kenma admitted to himself that he was having quite a good time against him. Though he lamented his losses dramatically, he was a fair sport, ‘oohing’ and ‘ahhing’ when Kenma did something remarkable like hitting a fast-moving target, or even to cheer him on and say ‘don’t mind!’ when he missed. To his own surprise Kenma found this side of Bokuto well and engaging, as he enjoyed (on the inside) exchanging tips for ‘next time’, a promise he had agreed to. 

“You two are getting along well,” Kuroo said, rubbing his head after they had finished up at a stall. (Kenma won.) 

“What, jealous?” Kenma asked him. He had the faintest sense of paranoia that an omega playing and being at such close quarters with another alpha that they weren’t bonded to would anger their partner, but Kuroo had been laid-back as he usually was so far. Then again, he wasn’t being affected by Bokuto’s pheromones, due to his partnership with Kuroo and his hormones settling. He had been exuding this strong forest smell the whole time as his excitement spiked, and between stalls Akaashi had been asking the gray-haired alpha to calm down out of consideration for alphas and possible unmated omegas. 

“Nah,” Kuroo said. He scratched his cheek. “Well, maybe a little.”

“Fufu,” Kenma chuckled softly. 

“Aw c’mon! It’s natural…” The alpha groaned. 

“I guess, but it’s still a bit cute,” Kenma told him. “Nobody has ever been jealous over me before.”

“You should be glad I’m here then, making the ultimate sacrifice. _Boiling_ in my jealous rage,” Kuroo sighed. “Kenma, how _could_ you? And with my own best friend at that!”

“Oh, suffer.” He said, squeezing Kuroo’s hand for a second before walking off to Bokuto, who had found another stall for them to challenge. During that time, he made a few observations. Bokuto, owing to the fact he was an alpha, a year older, and built like a stack of bricks was best at testing his strength and reflexes. However, his demeanor meant he got over-excited when he got into ‘the groove’ and could make careless mistakes which cost him points, just like how Akaashi was lecturing him. It helped close the gap between their differences in skill, though in the end he was left wondering if he won because of his own skills or through sheer luck alone. 

After a few more stalls their little challenge had concluded. They had a close match, he thought. One determined mostly by luck, he concluded, because the stalls just so happened to have focused on accuracy. Bokuto had obliterated him on the final challenge: the High Striker, where in a blink of an eye he had slammed down the mallet clanging the bell so loud crowds of people stopped to look, whereas Kenma could barely lift the mallet above his head and ended with a pathetic score. Despite that, it wasn’t enough to bring Bokuto’s score ahead. Out of the ten games they played, Kenma won six. Even Bokuto knew that; perhaps gathering all his strength and spending it on the machine. 

Kenma had conflicting feelings; the same old. He was happy he had won, but he didn’t like the aspect of luck messing with the results. He ended up quite lukewarm about it, with Kuroo taking more pleasure in his win than he did. Just as expected, the loss was a blow to Bokuto’s mood. He continued through the rest of the rides pouting, grumbling, muttering to himself, then getting defensive when it was pointed out by Akaashi. Kuroo did not help in the slightest, taunting him about the loss. When he eventually got tired of that routine, he urged Bokuto to hurry up and get over it. 

“It’s just one competition, just stop pouting already!”

“Yeah, but…”

“Oh my god, what is it?” Kuroo asked, rolling his eyes. 

Bokuto didn’t reply, instead glancing up and down at Akaashi like he wanted to say something, but he withheld whatever it was.

Akaashi only took a second to understand. “I see. Then, shall we head on over to that ride? I believe I can handle that one.” 

Pirate Cove. One of those slow-paced rides where you sat down and waited for the artificial river to run its course through the themed displays. It wasn’t Kenma’s favorite type of ride, but his feet were getting pretty tired after going through stalls. Luckily for them there wasn’t much of a line, typical of rides such as these, though it was still a fifteen-minute wait. Inside, Bokuto had oddly fallen silent, but was fidgeting in a way even Kenma thought was distracting. 

“It’s like an ant crawled up his ass,” Kuroo mumbled. 

Kenma snorted. Kuroo’s little comment made the fidgeting more entertaining as a result, with Kuroo beside him shaking as he held in his own laughter. 

“It’s your own joke, it’s not that funny,” Kenma told him. 

“I’m hilarious,” he replied, hooking Kenma close with his arm on his shoulder. 

“Clown.” 

“I prefer ‘jester,’ mind you. For a snarky little king called Kenma.” 

“A king,” he snorted again, pressing closer. The sudden longer instance of touch between them, after hours of having fun without much physical contact felt like Kenma had just thrown himself onto his bed after a long hard day of work, neighbors downstairs be damned. He suddenly missed that feeling, but it was brief. 

“Your wish is my command, your highness~” Kuroo grinned, clearly joking. If he was serious, he wouldn’t have made him finish his food. 

“Off with your head then,” he said. “Chop-chop.”

“Eh, I can only kiss you like this,” he leaned down and kissed Kenma’s cheek, “and this,” then his jaw, “and this,” then on his chin, “with a head on top of my neck, y’know?”

“Asshole,” Kenma spat, covering his whole face so Kuroo wouldn’t see his blush. At once the hallway they were in was warm yet despite that he wished to cover himself up in all sorts of layers while Kuroo pulled him into a hug, reading his mind. 

_‘Not this kind of layer,_ he thought, begrudgingly enjoying having his face planted in Kuroo’s chest; the scent of chocolate he had been exposed to so much, but not once had the thought of getting sick of it ever crossed his mind. 

“You’re stupid,” he muttered into his chest. Kuroo’s heartbeat was steady. Comforting. 

“Uh-huh,” Kuroo agreed. “Stupidly into you~” 

“Gross,” he groaned. 

Kuroo laughed, and it sent these vibrations through his body that Kenma felt tingly after, which is why he gently pushed him away, in favor of staying in front of him, instead of beside him. He was, unfortunately, far too aware of how hot his face was, so much that he hadn’t noticed it was their turn to get on. 

Akaashi and Bokuto sat in front while Kenma and Kuroo behind them. After getting strapped in properly, the ride commenced. 

It was boring; a ride meant for the youngest of children who happened just so happened to be enthusiasts of bright colors, interesting shapes, and looping music filled with 'yarr's and yohoho's. 

Kenma would have been fine with sitting there for fifteen minutes, had it not been for a single detail. The first few moments were fine; they sat in silence in the dim pirate-ride on a childishly-rendered boat, bobbing down the river while animatronics gestured at them. It was after they had passed a scene of the pirates burying treasure when he heard it: the soft, wet, and puckering, sound of kissing. 

Now it made sense why Akaashi chose such a boring ride. Not because he was nauseous, but because he wanted to be nauseating. Although there was a headrest preventing him from seeing the worst of it, the noises were far from… subtle. He was sure even Kuroo could hear it, or he just chose to ignore it like Kenma was trying to, anyway. 

He glanced at Kuroo, who was leaning against the edge of the boat. The dim lights made it difficult to decipher his expression; he looked either bored, tired, or angry, but Kenma could feel he was only… _miffed._ It was strange to actually think about it; how spending so much time together led them to come to a silent understanding. In contrast, he didn’t put much thought to how he reached for Kuroo’s hand, jolting him. 

“Hey,” Kuroo whispered, softly like a breath. 

“Hey,” he repeated. They held each other’s gaze for a brief period, before Kuroo darted his eyes away, looking as if he were deep in consideration. Kenma took out his phone and typed something out. 

`What`

He handed it to Kuroo, who took it with an odd look on his face before typing. 

` I have a funny story… :)`

Kuroo handed it back to Kenma.

`Ok`

` Once upon a time, there was a very handsome prince who was gallant, and cool, and awesome, named Kuroo Tetsurou who really really wants to kiss you right now. So he did. The End.`

He gave it back to Kenma with a goofy grin on his face. 

`Kuro your story sucks. There was no tension and i couldnt understand the main characters motivation. `  
`4/10`

` Would you prefer reality then? I assure you the experience will be a 10/10~`

Kenma admitted he walked right into that one. He took his time typing and erasing his message until he got it right. 

`Im not saying no`  
`But im not saying now`

`Got it, kitten~ Surprise kiss it is.`

He didn’t respond after that. It seemed as if he didn’t need to, because when he turned his face away from the screen, from Kuroo, the alpha knew exactly what kind of face he was making, and just how much he could contribute to his flustered cheeks just by tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. Shivers traveled down from his ear, to the back of his neck, down his spine, and spreading to the ends of his toes. 

_Surprise kiss._ Akaashi and Bokuto kissing became a second thought as the words periodically repeated themselves in his head while the boat ran it course. Approaching each bend in the river, he just about expected Kuroo to catch him by the lips to deliver his promise. His toes were curled in his shoes, fingers gripping the seatbelt in anticipation. 

God he hated what Kuroo could do to him. Having him wait this long. They were nearing the end; he could see the light of outside. Perhaps he wanted to do it there, or… somewhere inconspicuous, unlike Akaashi and Bokuto (who probably had swollen lips at this point if they were still kissing.) 

He imagined being cornered off for one moment after the ride, somewhere discreet: behind a building, a corner of a store nobody’s paying attention to, or even on the way home. 

Why was he looking forward to this so much? 

_‘Surprise kiss my ass,’_ he thought, as they stepped out of the building and back into the park. 

Akaashi and Bokuto had _their_ at least. The beta was poker-faced as ever, though Kenma could tell he was internally grappling with showing his flustered emotions or not, but Bokuto looked energized, no doubt since he got his wish. 

_‘At least they got what they wanted,’_ he snorted. 

“What’s wrong Kenma? You look so disappointed~” Kuroo teased. 

“Oh shut up...”

There wouldn’t be any surprise kisses after their next ride, a rollercoaster Bokuto wanted to get on again.

By then the sun had set, turning the sky a mellow purple. There were less people about, and the streetlights had begun to light up the cobblestone roads. 

Weariness settled upon their shoulders, but they had just one more bit of energy for a final ride: the ferris wheel. It spun slowly in the distance, glowing with warm yellow lights, towering even above the rollercoasters. Kenma was relieved; he was tired and was dragging his feet along with the rest of them. 

“C’mere,” Kuroo said, gesturing to his side. 

“Do _not_ carry me.” Kenma said, finding his place pressed against Kuroo’s side. 

“You’re not a baby so no,” Kuroo said, sticking his tongue out. “But you are my babe~”

Kenma shook his head, too tired to say he was being gross again. Kuroo knew, because he cackled then pinched his nose, saying something about his ‘ick’ face, and how it was so cute. 

“So cute I could just kiss you~” 

“I’d rather die,” Kenma muttered. 

“You’re such a bad liar Kenma,” he grinned. “You live for these lips.” Kuroo puckered his lips.

He sighed. “How could my boyfriend be so annoying…” 

Kenma found himself stopped the same time Kuroo froze in his tracks. He looked up and the alpha was blushing like an idiot, covering his face with his mouth. And yet, anyone could read from the cheeks pulled up, his silly grin. 

“Oh my god,” Kenma groaned in disbelief. 

“Say it again,” Kuroo mumbled behind his hand.

He took one look at him, then at Bokuto and Akaashi who had walked on ahead. 

“No.”

His words diminished the smile on Kuroo’s face, replaced by a cross look; a pout.

“Not until you kiss me,” Kenma said. 

“Oya.”

In silence, tense and suspicious silence, they caught up with the other two, who were preoccupied with their own romance to notice the faint warmth emanating between Kenma and Kuroo. Using their fast passes one last time, they parted in pairs to separate cabins. Akaashi and Bokuto went first, while Kuroo let three more groups go first, to put some distance between them. 

Privacy was made final as the door was shut, and they sat beside each other in silence. 

Tense silence. 

Filled with nothing but the gentle creak of the cabin as it made its slow ascent, far away from the ground; far away from people. Far enough that the sound of them drew to a soft hum peppered with the occasional high-pitched voice, far up enough until it turned to a hush.

He would have been comfortably set in this tranquility if only the word ‘boyfriend’ hadn’t been sitting on his tongue the entire time. 

Any moment he could have just gone and said it, yet it he couldn’t, and so it filled up his mouth, his throat, and his mind. He wanted Kuroo to surprise him with a kiss, just like he said.

For some reason they were both looking out the window, admiring the view of the amusement park in the evening. Kenma was closer to the window, so Kuroo was pressed closer to him, his chest brushing against Kenma’s back each time he breathed. His breathing was soft against his ear, and the scent of the alpha lingering. 

“You know this kind of reminds me…” He whispered, sending shivers down Kenma’s spine. 

It was difficult to answer with words. “Mmm.” 

The first time they kissed. 

Just like that, Kuroo tilted his chin up and kissed him. He pulled away as quickly as he had stolen the kiss (and the breath) from Kenma, his open hands waving in the air. 

“Surprise!” He grinned. 

Kenma wanted to curl into a ball of laughter, but instead settled for covering his face. “You’re terrible.” He was certain of it; his face would be far too much of a heated mess to show. 

“Excuse me, I am nothing but a saint,” Kuroo said, with a huff of triumph. “Now you have to say it.” 

“That barely counted,” Kenma said. “That was a peck. I said a kiss.” Saying that left his chest pounding, and his head in a rush. 

Kuroo’s lips crashed into his the next moment, sucking like it was so sweet, nibbling like Kenma himself were chocolate, and licking like he was melting. In a way he was; melting into Kuroo’s heated touch, and he was touching back, just as eager to wrap his hands around the taller man’s neck and explore his hair, his back. 

Kenma pulled away with a wet noise, like breaking the spell for a split second to say “Boyfriend,” before pulling Kuroo down by the collar. He cursed against Kenma’s lips, pulling him close by the hips, then onto Kuroo’s lap. His large hands slipped under Kenma’s shirt, hot fingers against hotter skin, gripping with the intent to keep him squirming there. 

They parted lips as wetly as earlier, Kuroo attacking his jawline and neck. He must have sensed Kenma’s panic, because he immediately clamped a hand on Kenma’s nape, leaving only the sides to be nibbled on. He was ticklish at the spot in between and Kuroo took notice, grinning (with teeth) against his neck. 

His hands were trembling as they gripped Kuroo’s shoulders, and his lips pursed tight as he held back his moans. With great effort pushed Kuroo away, panting hard. Kuroo was enjoying how Kenma stifled himself, but even more he enjoyed teasing him until he’d give in to his inhibitions. 

“Other side,” Kenma gasped. Kuroo was on the unkissed side of his neck instantly, eliciting a sharp gasp from him as he grabbed fistfuls of the man’s hair. He kissed up, up to his jaw, puffing a cheeky breath into Kenma’s ear, before whispering “Feisty kitten,” and locking lips once more. He shuddered again, moaning into the alpha’s mouth as his hand traveled up his shirt and to his chest. He fingers grazed the stiff nipple, and Kenma gripped his wrist, stopping him. 

“Shit, I’m sor-”

“I’m getting off.” He mumbled, sliding off Kuroo’s lap. 

“I think I got a little too ahead of myself there,” Kuroo said, scooting away from him. He looked incredibly guilty, and his strong scent had diminished. 

“We’re riding a ferris wheel,” Kenma said, looking away from him. 

A pause. 

“Kenma.” 

He jolted. “W-what?”

“Tell me something un-sexy.”

He whipped his head to Kuroo, who was politely angling his waist away. 

In a panic, he said the first thing that came to mind: “Hollow Knight.”

“...Are you kidding me?” 

“You said the first thing, so I did. I panicked.”

“No shit,”

“W-well, did it work?” _‘Was that appropriate to ask?’_

“I… I _guess?_ Give it uh, 15 seconds. 20.”

Awkwardness ensued. 

As much as he wanted to enjoy the scenery, Kuroo’s nervousness hung in the air like molasses. He had ruined the mood, and made things awkward between them. 

“Sorry Kuro,” he said.

“Say wha-? Don’t be sorry, Kenma. It’s just a funny little thing called boundaries, y’know? You seem new to this,” 

“I guess,” he mumbled. 

“Look, whoever your past boyfriend was, or whatever they told you, it’s wrong. Don’t feel sorry for saying no to stuff,” he said. 

Kenma didn’t have the heart or courage to tell Kuroo just then that he was Kenma’s actual first boyfriend, and that he had been an exemplar one so far. 

It’s just the fact that as an omega, there was this underlying guilt of not fulfilling what an alpha wanted that had wormed its way into his consciousness. Being actual boyfriends, there were still some expectations. 

He didn’t care; he _used_ to not care. Suddenly he did, and--

“Kuro, I think too much sometimes,” he blurted out. 

Kuroo agreed. He added it was a good thing, though only in moderation. Emotion was its own instant logic, after all. 

When the awkwardness had settled between them, the ride was nearing its end. He spotted Akaashi and Bokuto being let out from below. 

“‘Kay well, that was fun,” Kuroo sighed.

“Kuro, I have something to say. I think I meant back then, that…” He scratched the back of his head, frustration wrinkling his forehead. “That, t-there were more appropriate places for that sort of thing.” 

He only saw Kuroo’s face after they were let out by the attendant.

When they met with the other two after the ride, both alphas had the widest grins on their faces, leaving Kenma (and very likely Akaashi as well) to feel as if they had been scammed. The ferris wheel, having doubled as a ‘classic ride to end a trip to an amusement park with’ and ‘place to make out with your partner in.’ 

He must have had a messy appearance, because Bokuto of all people had to point it out. 

“Woah~ Did you two have a fiiiight?” Bokuto asked, poking his head around. His expression was smug, and smugness on Bokuto was a far worse look on him than Kuroo. 

“I-I don’t want to talk about it,” Kenma muttered, slowly edging behind his alpha to avoid Akaashi’s gaze. A gaze that said, ‘at least I have the decency to fix myself after making out in a ferris wheel.’ 

“Oh yeah we totally did,” Kuroo smirked. “Our tongues fought for domi-- _Ow! Stop pinching me!_ ” Kuroo yelped. “Ass!”

Kenma stuck his tongue out at him. “S’your fault…” 

After that, they headed out towards dinner. Bokuto mentioned something about a pizza joint they had passed somewhere along the way. The ride was fortunately uneventful, with Bokuto, like a tuckered-out kid, falling asleep five minutes in, his head leaning on Akaashi who looked just about ready to pass out himself. He had spent the whole day making sure Bokuto hadn’t done anything stupid, but Kenma was sure he had his share of fun too. From the rear-view mirror he could see Akaashi affectionately nuzzling the top of Bokuto’s head. 

Kenma scrunched up his face, keeping it ‘grossed out’ until Akaashi saw. Akaashi responded with a scoff, rolling his eyes. 

Kuroo spared the rear-view mirror one glance. “Kenma, let Akaashi be gross with Bokuto in peace.” 

So he did, and to his surprise not a few minutes later Akaashi was asleep too, his nose buried in Bokuto’s head. 

“You can go take a nap,” Kuroo said, his eyes on the road. “I’ll wake you guys up when we get there.”

So Kenma did, closing his eyes and letting the hum of the vehicle lull him to sleep. 

Sleep was uneventful, as was dinner. Kenma woke up groggy, and was hauled off to a pizza joint with warm neon signs. He brightened up at the sight of food, only realizing just how hungry he was and how sore his feet were from walking around all day. The rest of them were just as tired, as they ate their food, occasionally passing bits of conversation here and there, some reminders from Kuroo to finish his food, Bokuto over how he’d challenge Kenma again, and brief conversational texts from Akaashi if he had fun. 

\---

“Fuck, that took forever,” Kuroo mumbled as they finally pulled up their driveway. 

“It’s ten o’clock,” Kenma groaned, rubbing his eyes from half-sleep. Bokuto had been re-energized by the food and had talked their ears off the rest of the drive back. It was a relief to get home, to shed their shoes by foyer and trudge upstairs to their rooms to sleep.

All Kenma thought of as he followed Kuroo upstairs was how great it would feel to fall into bed and start sleeping into next week. His eyelids were like lead weights and he struggled to keep them up, relying on holding onto the back of Kuroo’s shirt to guide him around as he shuffled his feet, half-awake and half-asleep. He heard the close of a door behind him, and opened his eyes to see a bed, immediately walking over to it and flopping onto one side after kicking shedding his pants so that he was only in a pair of boxers, and a shirt.

Moments later, a second person flopped onto bed beside him. 

He cracked an eye open. It was Kuroo. 

“Kuro, what’re you doing in my room…” he mumbled.

“Kenma, this is my room.” 

“Oh.” 

He made no such move to get out. His body was glued to the bed, somehow having already wormed his way under the sheets. It smelled like hot coco, and it was so warm. 

“Since you look like such a happy little bedbug, I won’t bother you. Pardon me,” Kuroo said, getting up then sliding something soft under the sheets. Kenma recognized the texture of the mackerel pillow, and wrapped his whole body around it. 

“Honestly, Kenma…” Kuroo sighed. 

“Do you want me to go out?” He asked, peeking up at the alpha from under the covers. 

Kuroo chuckled. “No way, no way~ You look like such a content little kitten I couldn’t possibly force you out.” 

“Hm,” Kenma scoffed. Just then, he thought of something. “More pheromones,” he mumbled. “I think I can take it now. Regularly.”

“Oya, are you suggesting something?” Kuroo grinned cheekily. 

“We’re boyfriends now,” he mumbled, burying his face into the pillow. 

“Uh-huh, and you want to do this every night,” 

“It’s a pain to change my sheets, so I’ll just switch over to your bed.”

“Kenma, you have these stupid adorable excuses,” he chuckled, rubbing his head. He slid back into bed, and Kenma was astutely aware of his every move through the sheets, rubbing his exposed skin. For a moment it was electrifying. He thought he’d have difficulty sleeping then, but soon he could hear Kuroo’s breathing (despite the two pillows smashed against his head) and he followed shortly into a pleasant, dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said "until June" BUT IT'S STILL TECHNICALLY JUNE... 
> 
> Anyways, sorry for the delay! Life happened, and now I'm hunting for internships, yay (: 
> 
> That aside, this chapter took me a long time to write because I had to get back into the swing of writing fanfiction after the hiatus, but it should be fine now! I wouldn't say I'm 100% in love with how the chapter turned out, since the fluff overrode the tension, but I hope all the cute stuff makes up for my absence ahaha;;
> 
> Thanks for all the support, as usual! The fic hit over 580 kudos while I was gone, and that's so unreal?? And all your comments! I read them, even though I haven't been responding as much! They give me a lot of motivation, especially when you guys say nice things and point out little details, I love you guys so much :(( 
> 
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	23. Taking Initiative

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things lead to another, which leads into another thing, and another thing. Moral of the chapter is: Kuroo and Kenma get closer.

Waking up, Kenma somehow found himself nestled against Kuroo’s side, the mackerel pillow discarded somewhere on the ground or ending up by his feet. Each day he’d be more reluctant to leave the bed because of how warm it was, or Kuroo’s gentle snoring reminded him of how cats purr. He also found amusing how the alpha’s hairstyle could be influenced by the position of the pillows were against his head. He seemed so defenseless with his broad back open, perhaps for a brief hug Kuroo would never know about or a hypothetical laying-over while Kenma lazed around on his phone. He’d know when Kuroo woke up by the sharp halt of his snoring, like he had choked, then exactly five seconds later he would heave himself out of the bed with a grunt. Then, as they spent more time in the same bed, Kuroo would opt out of getting up, instead swinging an arm over Kenma’s waist and hooking him closer, inhaling his scent which he never fails to tell Kenma (jokingly) smells like Vicks Vaporub, which is effective in waking him up. 

On that day, however, something else was ‘awake.’ 

An occasion came when Kuroo laid on his back instead of his stomach, a pillow over his face. One arm was outstretched, replacing Kenma’s pillow and the other was over his stomach in mid-scratch, his wonderfully sculpted abdomen exposed and greeting the sun’s rays. The v-lines formed by his hips guided his eyes down, down past his navel where the dark hairs pointed towards something just past the waistband of his gray sweatpants. 

Something hard. Something big.

Kenma’s throat was dry, he swallowed thickly. He waited for Kuroo to stop snoring, but the moment never arrived and he was stuck staring at the hard length outlined by the gray fabric.

It would seem like ages had passed as he stared at it. He didn’t quite know how to feel; there were a jumble of emotions inside of him, bordering on both excitement and fear. Alphas had naturally larger penises, that much he knew but seeing one in reality was like a splash of cold water in his face. Up close, erections in porn seemed less adequate in comparison. He struggled to imagine how it would fit inside of him; how the thick girth, the length of it all would push against a virgin entrance that new nothing but his own fingers. He used toys before, though he never used anything thicker than a small vibrator, barely thicker than his own thumb- just a means to get it over with. He was never too into them, because his fingers were better at getting the job done.

Would _that_ do a better job? He wasn’t so sure when he didn’t even know if he could take it. Being an omega, his whole life was bombarded with how it felt ‘good’ to belong to an alpha, and as he grew older, how ‘good’ it felt to mate. It was what they were biologically designed for after all; nothing but givers and receivers of pleasure. 

It was no wonder he began attaching his own pleasure to the fact he was an omega. Back then attraction and arousal meant nothing to him, it just sort of happened but not because Kenma wanted it to, but because he was designed to at some point feel such things, and all the more the biological nature became his reason to quash his own feelings and choose to wait it out, or in his case down pills about it. 

“Then this asshole comes along,” he mumbled, a sense of affection accompanying his words. This asshole who he was attracted to, and he chose to be attracted to.

Kuroo groaned briefly, muffled under the pillow. Kenma jolted as taut as a ruler, wary when he’d rise, ask “Were you looking at my dick?” and grin cheekily about it.

Instead Kuroo’s hand began to feel around in search for him, and after finding the hem of his shirt to latch onto, tugged on it twice. A gentle tug that asked Kenma to fill up the side of Kuroo that was no longer warm. 

Cute as the gesture was, Kuroo was still hard, though Kenma couldn’t smell... inciting pheromones. Even if Kuroo was an alpha, he was still a guy, and sometimes guys just get morning wood for no reason. 

Though that ‘revelation’ comforted him then, the fact Kuroo was packing would bother him throughout the rest of the day. 

Kenma gently pried Kuroo’s fingers from his shirt, and left him and his morning wood there. It just seemed more… polite to leave Kuroo’s own problem to his discretion. 

Could Kenma have made it _his_ problem? 

Maybe. Maybe not. 

\---

“I’m really digging this Good Omens stuff,” Kuroo said. 

They were on the couch as usual, watching a show with Kenma’s back against Kuroo’s chest, their legs loosely tangled. 

“Shouyou told me it was good,” Kenma said.It was a welcome break from games, but it kept Kenma from having something to fully concentrate on, with Kuroo’s hand casually draped on his waist and their hips pressed lightly. Not with that morning fresh in his mind. His mind wandered from the show to the alpha’s arm hips, settling somewhere between the drama concerning pining celestials, infernals, and how, if Kuroo’s cock would somehow get hard watching, he wouldn’t mind if it were to slip between the gap of his thighs and rub him in between. 

Heat pooled at his face and spread throughout his body. He halted the urge to move his legs or adjust his body in response to the rapid discomfort. His heart pounded in his chest, throat dry, and fingers fumbling; squeezing the air for lack of something to channel his thoughts to. 

_“I’ll give you a lift. Anywhere you want to go.”_

Kenma knew he had to stand up at that moment, for thoughts of Kuroo’s hardened cock lifting up and pressing against his ass filled his mind. A single word was enough to illustrate a full scene with Kuroo’s hand gripping his hips, grinding against him while the show played on. His other hand would slip under Kenma’s waistband and fondle his cock until he was just as hard, wanting and wanton. Then he’d growl in Kenma’s ear, whispering how he’d fuck his omega and--

“Hey.” 

Kenma bit back a gasp of surprise. “Y-yeah...?”

“Uh,” Kuroo stammered. His hand grasped Kenma by the hips, and Kenma held his breath. Gently, he pried their hips apart, got up, and left while trailing a bittersweet scent, leaving Kenma with a soft ache in his chest: disappointment. 

His own disappointment surprised him. Never in his life did he ever expect to be disappointed because an alpha didn’t fuck him. In fact it was a source of _relief_ alphas didn’t bother with him. 

“And then this asshole…” he grumbled, furrowing his brows. 

It was easy to blame the fact he wasn’t attractive; though simultaneously he remembered how he was often called ‘cute’ and other compliments, and though he still had a hard time believing it, Kuroo did, and it was a good enough to convince him that he was not unattractive to Kuroo. Recalling certain times when he was on Kuroo’s lap, the first time Kuroo asked if he could kiss him, the first time he did in the car, and just recently, how they made out in the ferris wheel, Kenma was confident enough to say he looked alright. 

Now he was filled with regret. 

All those chances. 

_I’m all different,_ he thought, turning over his other side on the couch. The vacant space was more apparent this time, and he wanted it filled.

Much like some other place vacant; desiring to be filled.  


\---

It would take a few more days for something to happen. One morning, Kuroo had fulfilled his promise to teach Kenma how to cook properly, much to the latter’s dismay. 

“Just being able to fry things and boil water for noodles isn’t going to cut it for an adult,” Kuroo said. On the counter before him were various foodstuffs he pulled from the fridge. “Don’t give me that look, what else can you make?”

Kenma held his disgruntled expression. “It’s nine AM.”

“And we need breakfast. What else can you make?” 

Grumbling, he pointed at the eggs and tofu. “Frying those. That’s pretty much it.”

“No vegetables.”

“Tofu is a vegetable.” 

“And I’m guessing to you, apple pie counts as a fruit.”

“It _contains_ the fruit, so yes.”

“No! It’s just a byproduct!” 

Kuroo continued to lecture him on the different types of food groups and how they’re important. He ensured Kenma was actively listening by questioning him and asking him to repeat what he just said. Allthroughout, Kenma felt as if lectured by a particularly strict teacher. 

And no, putting glasses on Kuroo at this point wouldn’t make it enjoyable in the slightest. 

“I just don’t get why I have to do this, when you can cook…” 

“I can’t always cook for you Kenma, someday you’ll have to make yourself a meal without my beautiful chef powers to help,” Kuroo said, picking up a chopping board and a knife. 

“God, you talk like you’re dying.” He groaned. “You’re dying, aren’t you?”

“Actually, I am.” 

Kenma froze, stunned. 

“Of hunger! Let’s get cooking, Kenma! Chop-chop, literally! You’re going to help me with breakfast today~” He snickered, placing half a cabbage on the cooking board. “I want this cut into one-inch pieces. Easy enough,”

Kenma scoffed. He grabbed the knife, and contemplated for a split second plunging it into Kuroo’s back while the taller man grabbed a block of tofu and began cutting it into cubes on his hand, much like a housewife does. He was finished in a matter of seconds, dropping the tofu into a pot of miso soup. Just enough time for Kenma’s annoyance to dissipate, for him to comply and cut the cabbage. 

“You’re doing it wrong,” Kuroo said. He raised a closed fist, and mimicked a slicing motion on the counter. “Like a cat’s paw, ‘cause I don’t want you slicing your fingers off.” 

After a few more tries with Kuroo watching his unsteady hands make uneven cuts, he put the knife down and shook his head. “I’m no good at this,”

“Don’t be silly, you just started.” 

He could whine and whine, but Kuroo was determined to have him do it properly. That included coming up behind him to personally guide his hands. Kuroo steadied his wrist and showed him the proper position to cut. 

“See? Just like that…” He said, gently.

Kenma gulped. Imagination easily penetrated his thoughts nowadays, and he could pretend to stay focused on the incredibly sharp object near his fingers, but instead he was helplessly focused on how his hips were grinding against the counter’s edge while Kuroo towered over him. His breath hitched as goosebumps crawled up his spine. Shivering, he glanced upwards to Kuroo, hoping he’d catch the intent in how he licked his lips and the blush he was certain adorned his face. Vegetables be damned, he wanted to get picked up and fondled over the counter. Breakfast could wait when they could have each other as a snack. 

“Shit,” Kuroo cursed. His hands left Kenma’s, and the blonde held his breath. 

“The fucking soup’s gonna burn!” 

Kenma shut his eyes and tried to remember what it was exactly that attracted him to Kuroo. He had terrible hair, laughed like a braying donkey, and despite his degree in biochemistry, was stupid enough to pay more attention to soup than his boyfriend. 

The disappointment reared its head once again; the realization of which left Kenma wondering just how well his body must be adjusting to the hormone treatment: very well, in fact. 

Well enough for him to admit he was finally horny.

And Kuroo wasn’t doing a damn thing about it. Not even his scent proved to be enticing, the miso soup perhaps to blame. 

“Are you seriously sulking because I made you cut vegetables on such a fine morning?” Kuroo asked over their breakfast.

Kenma grunted at him. How could Kuroo of all people be so dense? He recalled when they were strangers, he was accommodating and considerate, to the point where he didn’t have to say a single word for Kuroo to somehow pick up he needed something. Only now did he realize it spoiled him rotten, making the simplest requests hard to say, not just imply through silence and physical contact. 

What could he say? _‘Kuroo, I saw your boner one morning and now I’m horny about it. Fuck me now, please._ It’s like something a customer would tell a retail worker after seeing a pair of shoes on display. 

“Is that a yes, or no? I’m not a mind-reader, y’know?” The alpha pinched the air before the bridge of his nose, signaling that Kenma’s little ‘ick’ face had appeared.

Kenma sorely wished he was. If Kuroo were, he doubted this would have been an issue, and he’d have been satisfied. Instead, he took a deep breath and sighed. “It’s fine. I kind of needed it,” he said. “I need to learn how to do these things myself.” 

To take matters into his own hands for once. 

Kuroo blinked, Kenma’s words having left a perplexed expression on his face. “Didn’t expect that from ‘ya. That’s a good mindset to keep,” he smiled. 

Contrary to what Kuroo was thinking, Kenma wasn’t all that concerned with learning how to cook properly just yet. 

\---

Going about how to get his own boyfriend to take a damn hint was more difficult than he thought. Snuggling and looking annoyed at Kuroo’s inaction could only tell the alpha so much, which led Kenma to think he needed to do something more drastic. 

Strip naked? God he wished; he didn’t have that much self-confidence. 

Text him? How would he even say it? Would ‘hey fuck me right now’ be too direct? How about if he went on a full-length explanation on why he wants it? For some reason the idea didn’t sit so well with Kenma, who preferred texting people instead of talking, but couldn’t find out how to say this one thing. He felt annoyed because his own inexperience was getting in the way of an otherwise simple task: signal to boyfriend you’re ready for action. 

Frustration led to laziness taking over, and now he was playing video games on the couch while Kuroo idly watched. 

“Hey, that thing looks like you,” he chuckled, pointing at one of the characters on the screen. “The rag on its head looks like your pudding hair,” 

Kenma squinted at the NPC on the screen. Kuroo was right, the shroud it was wearing kind of looked like his hair. “...No it doesn’t.”

“Does too~”

“Does not!”

“Does too!”

“Does _not!_ ”

“Yes you do, you little pudding head~”

Kenma couldn’t say anything back. He mentally kicked himself for being too lazy to redye his hair. 

“See? You can’t even deny it,y’know?” Kuroo fingers slid against Kenma’s neck, eliciting shivers from the omega as he lifted the blonde hair up. “So your hair really is black underneath. If you have any pictures of yourself with black hair, I’d love to see it,” 

Goosebumps pricked Kenma’s skin. He sucked in a breath while Kuroo played with the ends of his hair, looping and twirling it around his finger, while Kenma endured the odd tingles gathering at his ears, his fingers, and the ends of his toes. Curling his toes, he paused the game and set it aside. Leaning into Kuroo’s touch, the alpha began caressing that side of his head, massaging his scalp, turning Kenma’s brain into mush; admittedly like pudding. 

“Ngh…” 

Kuroo said nothing, simply hauling Kenma onto his lap. 

Kenma felt light in his strong arms, and he made no sound of protest, save for the softest of moans as their thighs slid against each other. 

Kuroo replaced his hand with kisses delivered to Kenma’s cheek. Kenma sighed, his lower lip quivering as his kisses left him tingling throughout his body. Kenma’s fingers tangled themselves into Kuroo’s thick hair, pulling the alpha’s head back in his fist. 

Kuroo was wincing, though that didn’t remove the wolfish grin on his face. He licked his teeth, growling like a beast separated from its meal. Without thinking he crashed their lips together, a thirst like nothing he had ever experienced overcoming Kenma like a flood, and mint rolling off him in strong waves. He sucked and kissed on Kuroo’s bottom lip, moaning into Kuroo as the alpha took over the kiss from there. 

Kenma’s whole body yearned for Kuroo’s touch; every inch of his skin left hot and tingling as the alpha caressed and fondled with tenderness at one moment, then with such vigor at other moments that when Kenma could think in split-seconds at a time, he suspected Kuroo was holding himself back. 

He pulled away from their sloppy kissing, both of them gasping hard. 

“Fast learner,” Kuroo grinned, swiping a thumb over his lower lip with that same hungry look in his eyes; both the gesture and expression somehowKenma found inexplicably hot that he sat up straighter. Taking sudden notice of his erection, Kenma stopped the urge to cover it up, his hands now awkwardly hanging around. 

“Do you want help with that?” Kuroo asked. 

Kenma stiffened. Kuroo was glancing away from it, a faint blush spread over his face. 

As much as he wanted to nod and say yes, there was still something holding him back from forming the words. A lump formed in his throat. “I-I…” 

“Kenma,” Kuroo’s voice was soft, coaxing out some words he needed to say. 

“If you remember that ‘real talk’ you gave back at the amusement park…” He was stalling, and Kuroo’s raised eyebrow indicated her knew, but he’d wait. “I just think,” he swallowed, averting his eyes. His voice came out as a stammer. “That you should take the initiative here.” 

Fingers dug into his hips and pulled them close. Kenma bit on his lower lip as he felt Kuroo stiff underneath him. Glancing down, Kenma’s bulge was dwarfed by Kuroo’s, the massive cock straining against his pants. 

“Initiative like this?” He whispered huskily in Kenma’s ear, tickling him. 

He could almost melt right then and there, and Kuroo knew what he was doing, because his hands began to draw light circles on his hips, his fingers having already slipped past the hem of his sweatpants. Kenma shivered, his cock twitching against Kuroo’s. He exhaled shakily. Goosebumps erupted wherever Kuroo got his hands on, while he held onto his broad shoulders, his hips grinding their erections together. 

“Kuro,” he begged, only to flinch when the alpha sucked long and hard on his neck, to the point it almost hurt, released only when he gasped out loud: Kuroo had slipped a hand under his shirt and given his nipple an experimental flick. 

“Y’like that?” Kuroo asked, kissing his neck just under his chin. Kuroo inhaled deeply, before licking where he had sucked earlier, making the spot tingle further. “Tell me how you like it,” he said, and Kenma could feel that smirk against his skin. 

“A-ass…” Kenma grunted, with a tone of annoyance. Fond annoyance. Right then, he wanted his clothes off from all the heat he was being subject to. 

“You said it,” he snickered. 

Kenma gasped as Kuroo squeezed his asscheek. He let go and squeezed it again, this time lifting up. At that moment Kenma knew he was wet, and a sudden wave of embarrassment came over him, which Kuroo fed on, evidenced by the grin on that stupid attractive mouth of his. The alpha repeated the motions, this time with both hands kneading. It spread his hole, which was drenching his underwear. His own cock was no different, already leaking and uncomfortably sticky as it was hard against his stomach. 

“You’ve got a nice ass, did I ever tell you that?” Kuroo had on by far, his most shit-eating grin, interrupted as he licked his lips again, like watching a meal being prepared. He spread Kenma’s cheeks apart, inadvertently grinding their cocks together. 

How Kuroo was savoring the omega’s reactions.

It drove Kenma wild, but he was too aroused to do anything more than plead for him to do something-- _anything._ “K-Kuro…”

“It’s soft, kinda like pudding and fits perfectly in my hands.” 

“Kuro, please…” Kenma reached to slide his pants down, but Kuroo caught him by the wrist. 

“Nuh-uh kitten~ You can’t told me to take initiative, so I’ll take it whenever I damn well please~” 

And there it was. _Kitten_ undid something in Kenma. 

“You’re taking too long!” Kenma snapped, beginning to pant from all the teasing. 

“Oya, somebody’s getting impatient. If you want something so badly,” he leaned close, his hot breath tickling Kenma’s already sensitive ears. “You’re going to have to ask nicely.” 

There was some part of him that had expected this; to be teased and teased until Kuroo got him to a certain tipping point. He swallowed hard and looked Kuroo in the eyes. 

Kenma’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Kuro p-please…” 

“Louder, kitten,” he said, nipping Kenma’s earlobe. 

Kenma moaned. “Kuro, please!” 

“Okay.” He said, that devilish grin of his disappearing. Instead what came over was his tenderness again, a part of him Kenma had expected. He stopped the teasing, holding the waistband of his sweats. He looked to Kenma for confirmation, and suddenly the omega remembered that literally nobody had ever seen him naked in years. 

His hesitation was sufficient for Kuroo to slide his hands back inside. One hand slid up to his chest, Kenma nodding for him to begin tweaking a nipple under his shirt. The other hand slid from his ass to his stomach, trailing shivers and goosebumps as the alpha’s hand traveled downwards, passing his navel, into his soaked boxers, before touching his still-leaking cock. The warmth of his hand caused Kenma to buck his hips, spurting a few drops of precum. 

He expected a snort, or a laugh, but nothing of the sort came from Kuroo. 

“Shit… I teased you bad, huh?” His voice was apologetic. He held Kenma gently, his hand large against the omega cock. He held back a moan at the hot touch, his mind reeling from how good it felt to be touched by someone else. It felt nothing like how he jerked himself off. Tremors exploded throughout his body; skin hot and flush, sensitive from the need. He felt like putty in Kuroo’s hands as he rolled his thumb over the slit of his head, massaging it, spreading the precum all over.

Kenma moaned into his boyfriend’s neck, his fingers scratching over his back. “K-Kuro…!” He breathed in, trying to find pheromones from him. He _needed_ the scent of chocolate. When he found none, he couldn’t help the perplexed whine that came out. 

“I’m on the meds, kitten,” Kuroo cooed, kissing his cheek. “It’s for the best,” he said, jerking Kenma off with slow strokes.

Kenma shuddered again, bucking his hips again. His mind was cotton-filled; hazy, and things were only making partial sense now. What he understood was that he wasn’t getting his pheromones. With a grunt, he bit down on the alpha’s shoulder. 

Kuroo hissed in pain for a second before gripping Kenma’s cock as if in retaliation, the omega arching his back and yelping in pleasure. Kenma bucked his hips more, fixated on getting off with Kuroo’s hand.

“M-more,” Kenma moaned hotly. 

Kuroo sucked in a breath through his teeth. He licked his lips and slid his other hand down Kenma’s back, fingers slipping between his cheeks and touching the spot where he was the most wet. Dripping wet. 

Electricity jolted through Kenma. He arched his back, a shuddered sigh coming from him. He spread his thighs and moved his hips in desperation. He could already feel the difference: Kuroo’s fingers were longer and thicker than his, and he wanted them to fill his entrance. He bucked his hips again, begging for Kuroo to please him. 

“Kenma, kitten,” he cooed, kissing him on the cheek. “I’m trying to be slow, work with me here…” He chuckled softly, no doubt finding Kenma’s current state amusing. 

Kenma wasn’t as amused. _‘I didn’t ask you to be gentle,’_ “I a-asked you to help,”

“I’m helping you right now, just be patient,”

“...I bet you’re enjoying this,”

“More than you’d want to know,” he smirked, spreading Kenma. His middle finger stroked the entrance slowly, teasingly so, before attempting to slide in, Kenma’s insides twitching around him. He was met with some resistance, Kenma being new to the sensation of something bigger than his own fingers entering. 

“Relax, kitten,” Kuroo whispered, kissing his cheek. “Take deep breaths, I won’t force it in,”

Kenma sucked in a breath, doing as he was told. Slowly, his finger slid inside, reaching deeper than Kenma could ever with his own fingers with the help of how wet and aroused he was. Once fully inside, Kuroo looked at Kenma. 

“I’ll be moving it now, ‘kay?” He murmured, followed by a brief kiss on Kenma’s lips. 

Kenma nodded, inhaling shakily. Once Kuroo began to move, he moaned into his neck, fingers gripping his shoulders tightly as he tried not to cum then and there. It was just one finger, and yet the more Kuroo thrust it in and out, moving his finger in a ‘come hither’ motion, the closer he was brought to the edge. He arched his back again, responding to Kuroo pressing against a sensitive spot. 

“You liked that, huh? God, your face looks so hot right now,” Kuroo cooed, licking his lips as he repeated the motion. 

“Shut…Nghh...” He couldn’t finish, as the bastard Kuroo curled his finger, intentionally hit the spot again. The rest of it came out as a soft whine, a shudder, and a look directed at his boyfriend begging for release. “Kuro, please…”

“‘Please’ what, hm~?”

Kenma hated how he revelled in his pleasure. He squirmed in place, grinding his hips down. “You k-know what it is…”

“I do, but I like to see you honest with me.”

“T-this is honest e-enough…!” Kenma nearly mewled. Kuroo had slipped a second finger in, filling him up so suddenly, rubbing against that spot, It drove him crazy, and he was nearing an orgasm. He tightened around the fingers and gyrated his hips with more desperation. He looked up at Kuroo and saw his face flushed, biting down on his lower lip.

They met eyes and locked lips in an instant. Kenma moaned into the kiss as Kuroo curled and thrust his fingers while he gyrated his hips fast, reaching a great climax he had never experienced before. He tightened around Kuroo’s fingers and came in his hand simultaneously, seeing stars in his vision before pulling away from the kiss, breathless. 

Kenma collapsed on top of him, absolutely spent. The fabric of his sweater clung to his sweat-soaked skin; his body hot and sticky. 

“I’ll take my fingers out,” Kuroo said, sliding them out slowly. “Hey, you keep sucking me in,” he chuckled. “Want to go again?”

He shook his head, shuddering as Kuroo’s fingers exited him. Orgasming that hard left his mind fuzzy, but gave him more than his usual fill of gratification. The thought of pleasure with pheromones involved crossed his mind but was interrupted by Kuroo slipping his hands out, leaving some of his skin streaked with his cum. He made a disgruntled noise and Kuroo chuckled back at him. 

“You sure did cum a lot,” he said. “My hand’s coated right now,”

Kenma glanced at his hand and his eyes widened. Kuroo’s palm was dripping with white strands of his cum. “I… I did. That was more than usual…” 

“Hmm~ well I’m glad to hear that,” he said, grinning. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He wiped his hand on Kenma’s pants. Kenma could care less about it, until he made a noise of protest when Kuroo tried nudging him off, much to his own surprise. 

“Let me um,” He pulled back from Kuroo, and glanced down at his erection, still hard and straining against his pants. “Let me help you too…”

Suddenly Kuroo flushed, and tensed up under Kenma. “W-what? You don’t have to, I mean, I said-”

Kenma shut him up by grabbing the back of his head, and pulling his head down for a swift peck to the lips. Once he pulled away he whispered, “Please?” 

Kuroo’s erection twitched. The alpha cursed softly, mumbling something about how he’s weak for some reason. “Okay,” he said. Looking embarrassed about it.

“Why’re you the one embarrassed,” muttered Kenma, raising his hips as he reached for Kuroo’s waistband. He pulled down, “I should be the one who…” and promptly shut his mouth as his boyfriend’s erection sprung into view. 

It was large, like alpha cocks should be, standing stiff and straight up. But up close, it seemed even larger than when Kenma saw it under his pants those few days ago; and it was more veiny in comparison to his own. He gulped hard, smelling just the faintest scent of a saltier chocolate. He felt his insides tingle in response, alongside a wave of shyness as he averted his eyes from the first dick he had ever seen (that wasn’t his own, of course.)

Ever vigilant, Kuroo seemed to mistake his shyness and hesitation for regret. 

“Yeah, see, like I said, you don’t have to,” Kuroo told him. “We can do this some other time,” 

Kenma gripped it in his hand. It filled his palm, and his fingers barely closing around it. Kuroo was hot in his hands and twitching with need just as Kenma was. He began moving his hand slowly at first, up and down, up and down. 

Kuroo stifled a groan by covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “Fuck... “ 

Kenma swallowed hard. It was nice to see his partner pleased. Suddenly it made a lot of sense why people do this, not just for the pheromones. 

“Can you do it harder like this?” Gripping Kenma’s hand, enveloping it in his own as he jerked it with more pressure. Precum spurted from the head, coating his cock as they jerked it off together, Kuroo turning harder in his hands and twitching every so often when his thumb rubbed the underside of his head.

Passing some time in relative silence, with only his boyfriend’s labored breathing audible, Kenma felt the had to ask if he was anywhere close.

“How long do you usually take?” 

“Ah?” Kuroo stopped moving his hand, much to Kenma’s relief. “Stuff like this usually takes fifteen minutes. Could be longer, but maybe it’s an alpha thing,” 

That was almost double than what he took. Kenma thought there would have been differences, but not by that large of a margin. “Usually I only take five or six minutes,” he glanced down and squeezed that underside of Kuroo’s with his thumb, eliciting shivers from Kuroo. 

“Keep doing that,” he panted, “that feels good.” 

Kenma licked his lips and did so, feeling pleased he found a spot Kuroo liked. However, only moments later Kuroo stopped him for a second. “I might get off faster if I uh,” he trailed off mumbling, looking away from Kenma until he returned a sideways glance. “Use your thighs maybe… All you have to do is lie down there, but it’s just a suggestion though.” 

“Okay,” he nodded. Because when Kuroo was blushing like that, how could Kenma resist indulging him?

Baffled, Kuroo kissed him hard. They parted with a wet smack. “What? Really?”

“You seem so excited about this…” He mumbled, feeling embarrassed for his cock twitching in his hand. “Take the lead, I guess,”

With sudden gentleness, Kuroo had laid him over the couch and lifted Kenma’s legs. “May I?” He asked, tugging at Kenma’s waistband for permission, to which Kenma nodded, though he stopped his briefly the moment it reached to his knees. His boxers remained on.

Kuroo stopped as he was told, proceeding to slide himself between Kenma’s thighs, hot and moist from all the precum he had been so dutifully rubbing on his cock. It was the perfect moment for Kenma to realize he had gained weight, as his thighs easily touched. Even Kuroo noticed, cheekily pinching the side. 

Embarrassment welled up in him. He looked away, trying to swat Kuroo’s hand.

“Don't be so shy, Kenma~ it means you're fed well." He snickered. "You were all skin and bones when you got here,"

Kenma scoffed. "No, I'm fed up,” his tone came out harsher than he intended, but Kuroo didn’t seem to mind, his hands now squeezing Kenma’s thighs between his cock. Thrusting slowly at first, Kuroo worked himself grunting and moaning, murmuring how his thighs were great, and how soft they were against his cock. To Kenma it was a weird feeling, not particularly arousing (and not that he was in the state for it, as he was still recovering from earlier) but Kuroo looked so intense, and as he kept thrusting, Kenma observed how he was in pleasure: eyebrows knit together in focus, neck and forehead in a sweaty sheen, his tongue stuck out the side, and those hazel eyes staring intently at him. 

For a moment he envisioned how Kuroo would look when they would inevitably fuck, and how Kenma would inevitably feel to have him inside, filling him far more than any of Kuroo’s fingers could. 

Shivers crawled down his spine and Kenma darted his eyes away to escape that piercing gaze. He spotted the switch laying just beside him.

“Kenma,” Kuroo panted. “I swear to god if you start playing games...” He squeezed his thighs as a warning. “Now is _not_ the time for that.”

_‘Okay Professor Oak,’_ Kenma thought, snorting. “I won’t,” he reassured him, . 

“Good. Eyes on me,” he grinned, flashing his teeth. “I saw you looking at me,” 

And for some reason Kenma felt flushed, darting his eyes to and from Kuroo as he fumbled an explanation for himself. “Where else was I-- It’s just that… I-I mean…” 

Kuroo snorted, pausing to part Kenma’s legs, placing his hands next to Kenma’s head and leaning down to kiss his nose. His hard cock was pressed against Kenma’s stomach. “Where’d all your honesty from earlier go, kitten?” 

Kenma wanted to cover his face. “It never existed,” he grunted. “Never ever,”

To this Kuroo snickered, and whispered in his ear, “You are so dishonest,” followed by a nibble. 

A jolt of pleasure ran down Kenma’s neck. “Oh!” He moaned, a hand flying up to cover his ears. 

“Oya~? Did I just discover something good~?” Kuroo hummed. He got up, resuming his old position with his cock sandwiched in between. 

“S-shut up! No you didn’t!” Kenma scowled, raising a middle finger at him.

“Mhmm, very cute of you to lie right now,” Kuroo grinned, relishing his reactions like the bastard he was. “I’m nice, I’ll totally forgive you, and! Not take advantage of it,” as he said that, he thrust against Kenma’s thighs with an evil deliberation, hips moving hard and slow to punctuate his words. Kuroo licked his lips and shuddered. “And lucky for you, I’m getting close,” 

“I hope you never cum,” Kenma said, his flustered face half-covered by his hands. 

“Do you love spending time with me so much, Kenma?” He drove his hips harder, biting down on his lower lip. He was overcome with shivers before cumming, splattering his hot and sticky cum against Kenma’s thighs. It smelled strongly of salty chocolate.

\--- 

A while had passed after they had cleaned up after themselves, taking turns using the shower at Kuroo’s room. On the bed, Kenma refused to be hugged by Kuroo, choosing instead to hog all the blankets and roll himself up into a ‘pout-ball’ as Kuroo put it. The alpha was feeding fuel to the flames by taunting Kenma over how cute he was after. 

“The cutest, really.”

“Was not.”

“Were too~” 

“Was _not._ ”

“Were too! You were going all, ‘Kuro, please~’!”

“I am going to kill you,” Kenma growled. 

Kuroo chuckled. “Kenma you can’t kill me, that’s illegal y’know? That’s boyficide.” 

“I will. I’ll hit you on the head when you’re not looking.” 

“I’ll have you know that trauma-induced amnesia isn’t going to make my fingers un-fuck you,” he cackled, nudging Kenma’s sphere of blanket with his foot. 

“I wish it did,” Kenma mumbled. 

Kuroo dropped his smug look and stared at him. “Really.” 

Kenma stared back. “...Not really.” 

“Did I hurt you, or was I too forceful at any point?” Genuine concern marked his face. 

Kenma shook his head. “It was fine.” 

He lied. 

It was great. 

Even if it happened suddenly. Even if it wasn't really planned. 

Since it was Kuroo, it was okay and Kenma wouldn't have had it any other way.

“Mmm, come here,” Kuroo’s voice was soft and gentle. He spread his arms, motioning for a hug. 

“Only if you stop teasing.” Kenma said, glancing at him suspiciously. 

“I won’t, I won’t!” He promised. 

Kenma decided to trust his words, emerging from the blanket and taking his place next to Kuroo. Resting his head against his bicep, he closed his eyes and let Kuroo kiss him tenderly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off: Shoutout to mookie and monalisa for giving me ideas/reading these parts for me! I'm not that good writing smut;; 
> 
> Also: Hhhhhi I know it's about a week late or so, but internship hunting took up majority of my time! The good news is I managed to land one, but because of the internship expect updates to be a bit more sporadic :(( 
> 
> This chapter is shorter than my usual, but I also hope the fact it was mostly smut and other fluffy stuff makes up for it :D Next update will be Bokuto's 2nd Intermission! Hopefully it should flesh out more about Kuroo and Bokuto's friendship, as well as some backstory~
> 
> Thanks for all the support guys! This fic has gained a lot of traction and I'm honestly floored by every wave of comments each time! Even if I don't respond, just know that I do read them and they get me through writing! <3


	24. Intermission: Bokuto II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo messes up a considerable amount of times. Bokuto slightly less. Akaashi is but an innocent spectator. Later, good news and good times.

The doorbell rang. 

Kuroo’s voice was loud through the intercom. _”Hey Bo, let me in. Shit’s killing my arms, open the damn door already.”_

Bokuto flung himself from the bed. Shit! He forgot about today! As he tugged on a shirt, Keiji stirred from the bed, rising mechanically from the bed like a mummy. He looked confused, blinking at the wide windows, sunlight streaming in, warm and bright. Hickies, bite marks, and all sorts of little marks decorated his chest, gathering most near his collarbone, trailing down his naked chest and that trim waist of his that never gave throughout the night. Keiji fell back on the bed with a deep and satisfied sigh, Bokuto telling him there’s no work today. Weekends were the best. 

A barrage of frantic rings fill the room and Bokuto glared at the door, cursing as he hopped out while pulling at a pair of briefs for decency’s sake, like Keiji told him before. He scrambled for the door, flinging it open to Kuroo’s surprised face. 

“Damn, what took ‘ya so long?” The raven-haired alpha asked with a lift of a brow. He was carrying two heavy-looking paper bags, bright green apples peeking from the tops. 

Bokuto grinned. “Hehe, just overslept a little! Tired from all that work, y’know? Come on in!” 

“Thank god,” Kuroo groaned, the drama queen. Or was it king? He placed groceries over the kitchen counter, taking out the contents one by one. There were lots and lots of apples and lemons, along with sacks of flour and other ingredients Bokuto couldn’t identify. All he knew was, they were going to make something delicious. 

Kuroo groaned as he cracked his back. Bokuto winced at the noise. “I think I caught every single person on the way up. I was in the elevator for aaages,” he said.

“Dude, you’re getting old!” He pointed out. “You have white hairs growing there,” he gestured to the side of his head, the general area at Kuroo’s left, expecting him to panic and look. 

“Always wanted to be a silver daddy,” Kuroo said, sticking out his tongue, cheekily avoiding Bokuto’s teasing, much to his dismay. Eager to begin whatever it was they were going to do, Kuroo used a teacher’s slow, deliberate voice to instruct him to get out bowls he never recalled sitting in cupboards, measuring cups he was sure he used once to drink milk chocolate out of when he had run out of cups, spoons, and the kitchen scale he tried weighing himself with once. (Keiji put an end to that, fortunately for the scale.)

Bokuto leaned over the counter, eager to watch with his eyes focused on the ingredients neatly laid out on the white marble. He wouldn’t be surprised if Kuroo were to build an apple pyramid from all the apples he was piling up. “What’cha making?” He asked, taking an apple for a bite.

Kuroo snatched it from his hands, looking annoyed. “Bo, quit that!” 

“Ehh, but you’re using my kitchen though! I deserve an ap--” Kuroo shoved the apple into his mouth, leaving it stuck firmly between his teeth like a roasted pig. 

“S’good look on ya,” Kuroo grinned. “You should keep it there forever,”

He crunched down on the apple, catching it effortlessly with his hand as it fell down. Mouth watering from the tartness, he put it down and swallowed. “Asshole,” he said.

“Uh, the biggest.” Kuroo said, with a roll of his eyes. They chuckled together, while Kuroo searched for something on his phone. “It’s apple pie, by the way.” 

He perked up. “I haven’t had apple pie in ages! Thanks, grandma!” Bokuto beamed. 

“Oh shut up,” Kuroo groaned. “I’m not getting _that_ old! I’m 28, that’s super-young!” He rubbed his chin, checking his nervous reflection in a saucepan from the hanging rack over head. “‘Sides, this is for Kenma. It’s his favorite food, so no way am I not learning how to make it.”

“But you’ve never baked before!” Bokuto said with confidence. “I’m pretty sure.”

“Damn straight, so this’ll be fun. As long as I have this,” he held up his phone, the screen open on a recipe video, “I’m all good. It’s _pie,_ so how hard can it be? I just gotta get the crust right, the filling, maybe some lattice if I’m feeling fancy,” Kuroo snickered. 

“Let me help!” Bokuto piped up. “I wanna learn too!” 

To his dismay, Kuroo grimaced like was some sort of a _terrible_ suggestion. He was even doing that little side-eye thing! “Uhhh,” 

“C’mon! What’s the worst that could happen, it’s not like I’d set the house on fire!” 

“May I remind you about our third year in Kamigawa, when you decided to microwave a baked potato wrapped in tinfoil?” 

“It wasn’t _that_ bad! Like, just a tiny corner of the kitchen got scorched a _liiiiittle_ but I put it out!” He grinned sheepishly. 

“Yeah, you chucked some water at it, without unplugging, short-circuiting our entire room, Bo. I had to rewrite pages of my report until 5AM, messed up my thesis defense, and lost my dean’s lister status for that term because Mr. Takeda hated my ass, and I’m still salty about it.” Kuroo’s face darkened, like he was recalling something painful. 

Bokuto dropped his “Oh my god, dude, I’m actually _so_ sorry about--”

“Juuust kidding~ I made that up, I was always a dean’s lister,” Kuroo cackled, “You should have seen the look on your face! It was like a kicked puppy, buahaha!” 

Bokuto flushed, realizing he had fallen for one of Kuroo’s little lies again. “Ugh, whatever! I just wanna help!” He crossed his arms and stomped off to the other side of the kitchen, throwing open the fridge door and glaring at the contents because his hunger came suddenly. Instead he just huffed at the stir-fried meat from last night, and Keiji’s onigiri. He always found the cold air from the fridge helped cool down his face, which was than when he was younger and he’d ‘cool down’ underneath his house’s dining tables and school desks regardless of time and place. 

Now that he was older, he’d just get hungry when he gets a little bit annoyed.

He pulled out the leftovers and chucked it into the microwave, avoiding Kuroo’s trailing gaze with a huff. 

“Bo, c’moooon I was just joking!” He said, with the most insincere grin. Or maybe Kuroo’s face was just like that, perpetually curled into a smirk.

He ignored it,rolling his eyes and pressing buttons as the other alpha talked, the microwave’s beeping drowning him out. 

“If you don’t stop pouting and grow up, Keiji won’t like you anymore, y’know?” 

He snapped his head at Kuroo, alarmed. “What? No!” 

“Yes.”

“Noooo! Nuh-uh!” 

“Yuh-uh, Bocchan~ He’s gonna be like, ‘Bokuto, you’re super childish, I’m gonna hate you now.’” He snickered.

Bokuto felt his heart skip a beat. Not in the good ‘I-saw-somebody-hot’ way, but the ‘I-accidentally-skipped-a-stair-going-down’ way. He didn’t sound like Keiji at all, and yet the mere idea of his boyfriend saying that gripped him with panic. He gulped hard, approaching Kuroo. “Y-you really think so? Oh my god, I think actually…” He leaned over the counter, his forehead firm against a cold stick of butter, sighing hard. 

Kuroo was rattled by his reaction, setting down the apple he was slicing to approach him, the smugness replaced by frantic concern. “H-hey, I was just kidding! I’m sure he’s not that--” 

Bokuto shook his head, lifting his head from the butter to bring his hands down on Kuroo’s shoulders. The impact was loud throughout the kitchen.

“Sike!” He laughed. “Kuroo, your face was _the_ best!” 

“Son of a bitch, I can’t believe I fell for your stupid puppy-eyes!” 

“I know, though.” Bokuto said, releasing his friend.

Stunned, Kuroo squinted at him suspiciously. 

He rubbed the back of his head, trying to put it into words. “Like, I know I’m not the best guy or anything, and ‘Kaashi’s been so good to me, he’s like an actual saint, Kuroo! So, I want to learn how to be like him, kind of? He’s so cool, man. Keiji’s got his shit together, all the time! Sometimes I feel like he can run the company, hehe~” 

“I’m kind of surprised by this coming from you,” Kuroo said. “Looks like mister baby-boy grew up, huh?”

Bokuto rubbed his nose, shy all of a sudden. “Heh, he had to! If I wanna be like ‘Kaashi!” 

He smiled, not smirked. Now that he thought about it, Kuroo had been smiling more often. Was it because of his boyfriend? Honestly, Bokuto never expected it to turn out like that, even if Kenma was pretty cool! He was so good at games, and was one of those ‘cool and calm’ types like his boyfriend and best friend. It was a miracle to think something Kuroo was never one for relationships, always focused on work to the point it was sometimes impossible to get a hold on him for weeks at a time. Seems like that forced leave really worked wonders on him, even if he dedicated it to an ‘experiment!’ Curious, Bokuto asked Kuroo while he prepared the apple pie. He had a hand in it too, carefully measuring out the dry ingredients into the bowls. Kuroo would tell him the bulk of it while kneading the dough. 

“To tell ya the truth, I wasn’t really expecting it either.” He sighed. “I mean, we were just gonna share pheromones, but let me tell ya Bo, even in the most controlled environments experiments never fully turn out the way you expect them to,” he said. “Betcha didn’t expect to end up with your assistant either,”

Bokuto shook his head in affirmation. “Nope! I mean, when dad assigned him to me, I didn’t really think about him at first, y’know? Well, I mean I _did_ think he was pretty hot, and he learns so fast I feel like he already knows what I’ll say before I say it, plus when we were having lunch outside he was eating so much onigiri, it was actually amazing to see. Like, I guess he was interesting? He did catch my attention!” 

Kuroo snorted. “You say ‘I didn’t really think about him at first,’ then just… list down stuff like that? Bo, I think you fell pretty hard, but you’ve got a head as dense as a sack of bricks, it’s like a helmet at this point.” 

“All I’m hearing is, I can ride a bike without having to wear one.”

Kuroo stopped kneading, gesturing with his hands as he stressed a single word: “Don’t.”

Bokuto laughed. “Just kidding! ‘Kay then, tell me your first impression of Kenma!” 

“Short,” Kuroo said without hesitation. “Thin as hell, dude. I seriously thought I might snap his wrist if I shook his hand so I think the first time we met I didn’t even try. He’s got real sharp eyes though, like he was scanning me. Overall: a nervous little street cat.” He snorted with fondness written all over his face. “But hey, we warmed up to one another, and now we’re real all good,”

Bokuto was happy for Kuroo. “That’s great, dude! You should have brought him over, so we could hang out more,” he suggested. “Man, he beat me at carnival games, and he’s a real cool guy!” 

“I know~” Kuroo said, puffing his chest out with pride. “My boyfriend’s the best!” 

Competition typically ran between alphas. In all matters of concern discussed, one way or another it will turn into a contest; winner takes all, best of the best, and this was of no exception.

Bokuto just had to correct him, shaking his head with a confident laugh. “No way, Keiji is clearly the best boyfriend!” 

“Bo please don’t start this with me,” Kuroo said, sounding exasperated already. He stopped stirring the bowl of delicious cinnamon-smelling apple filling, raising the silicon spatula at him in warning. “Do _not.”_

Bokuto did. He began listing all the wonderful details of Keiji; his beautiful eyes, and his kind smile, the way his hair look a little ruffled, or how he looked so icy cold and aloof but usually turned out to be the one paying attention the most. He was always helpful, prepared, and super smart, and--

Kuroo interrupted him with a scoff, followed by how Kenma could not be defeated in terms of cuteness; his long lashes, shoulder-length pudding hair, . He went on at length about Kenma’s tiny habits, twiddling his toes when he gets excited at a game, or the soft and most importantly _adorable_ noise that accompanied his yawns each time. 

So they went on at each other, piling habit over habit, quirk over quirk, trait over trait, until Bokuto was pretty much sure they were just making stuff up at a certain point, but they both didn’t care! They spurned each other, their chests burning with the desire to know: who had the best boyfriend? 

Loud beeping from the oven (which until this point Bokuto had only used to store things in) broke them up from their argument, their heads snapping at the source like dogs who had spotted a squirrel at the park. With a pair of folded hand towels, Kuroo pulled out the freshly baked mini-pies setting them carefully on the counter. Bokuto was drooling at the sight of them: perfectly golden-brown mini-pies, steaming and still-bubbling with the cinnamon-scented filling. Kuroo had sprinkled some sugar on top, and dissolved, had created a shiny crust over the simple lattice. 

Kuroo slapped his hand away. “Just wait for ten minutes!”

He whined, saying he was hungry and he hadn’t eaten breakfast yet, but Kuroo has the self-control of a saint and firmly (with a watchful glare) told him to go and get the meat he forgot about in the microwave. Oh right!

With some of his hunger sated, he waited on the couch, playing games on his phone. It was a brand new one, since he had cracked the screen of his other phone and this one had pictures of Keiji in it! He switched to the photos app to scroll through his photos, a wide grin creeping over his face. Man, Keiji was really pretty. Of course, he was the absolute best at taking photos, but it’s like he was enhancing it! He bet that even if Keiji was half asleep or looking like his ‘worst’ any photo of him would turn out like a masterpiece, or something!

“Hey Kuroo, you got pics of Kenma on your phone?” He asked. 

“Duh,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. How could he have known?! “C’mere,” Kuroo said, gesturing at the apple pie. “It’s done cooling, so I took the liberty of grabbing us forks,” he said, handing him one. 

“Oh man,” Bokuto rubbed his hands in excitement, licking his lips. He took the fork, and together they raised their forks into opposite ends of the tiny pie. They pushed into the crust. 

Then pushed more. 

Then pushed a bit more until their forks bent from the pressure they were exerting, and the sheer _fortitude_ of the pie. 

“Oh.” Kuroo said, staring at the defiantly unscathed pie biting his knuckles. That was a habit of his whenever something went wrong! Bokuto waved his hand to get him to stop. “Well this sucks.” 

“I bet it’s not that bad,” Bokuto said, setting the bent fork aside and lifting the pie to his mouth. He opened his mouth and bit down. The pie gave, bending in his teeth instead of breaking like pies are supposed to! Filling oozed out of the lattice, dripping all over the counter. Growling, Bokuto bit harder, finally breaking the pie. 

God it was like chewing on a thick rubber band. 

He spat it out, right onto the counter, much to Kuroo’s disgusted face. “You’ve gone and done crimes to this pie, Kuroo…” He groaned, rubbing his jaw. 

“I know buddy, I know.” He said with a deep sigh. “I don’t know what went wrong! I followed the recipe exactly, but shit I guess,” Kuroo groaned, throwing his hands in his hair. “It has to be perfect, or else!” 

“Kuroo! Show me your pics of Kenma!” Bokuto said, hopefully distracting Kuroo. Fortunately it worked; the other alpha relaxing his shoulders while Bokuto beckoned him back to the couch. 

Kuroo had a surprising amount of pictures of Kenma sorted in an album. Candid photos, mostly of him sleeping or looking away from the camera. Some of them were in restaurants, recognizing Cafe Hedera in some photos. Others were in the car, with Kenma focused intently on his phone. There were a lot of pictures like that, Kenma hunched over, his shoulder-length hair obscuring his face. The top of his head was mostly black now, shifting to brown and black. Few photos stood out to him, though. Kenma at some restaurant absent-mindedly looking out the window while sipping a drink through a straw. Kenma curled into a ball, nestled snugly against Kuroo, his face buried in the alpha’s side. Lastly, a photo of Kenma smiling in contentment, looking relieved as he held onto a console. 

“Woah dude,” Bokuto said. 

“I know, I’m probably being a creep,” Kuroo sighed. 

“You really like this guy, huh? Give me that,” Bokuto took the phone from Kuroo, who let him with only a weird glance. Kuroo had long given up trying to hide anything on his phone from Bokuto, not that he had any reason to. For the longest time, all the photos on his phone were of work, work, work! Sure there were still screenshots of whatever chemistry stuff that was boring to look at, but with Kenma, his photo album looked more colorful to look at! No more plain white documents or charts! “Y’know what they say, the stuff a person takes pictures of is usually what’s important to them!” 

“Dude that is some yucky sappy shit,” Kuroo grimaced, but a smile twitched at the corner of his lip. Bokuto succeeded! “Right, I’ll figure out what went wrong with the pie, then try again.”

Satisfied with what he had done, Bokuto relaxed on the couch, only to be yelled at minutes later because he had to help. Rude! 

\---

“...I will not be the one to clean this up.” Keiji said, his face looking absolutely distraught while staring at the mess they have made of the kitchen. Flour had seemingly exploded everywhere, scattered all over the floor, counters, cupboards, and even the ceiling had a faint sprinkle to it. Cut apples covered in sugar and cinnamon littered the carpet, coming from a smashed ceramic bowl. Utensils, bowls, measuring cups, and other ingredients were in disarray. The whole place smelled disastrously delicious. 

Lying on the ground as if defeated were the two alphas. 

Kuroo was behind the counter, out of sight from Keiji while he stared at the ceiling, lifeless from the ordeal he had just experienced. 

Bokuto listlessly rolled a dowel on the floor beside him. “My jaws hurt... No more pies please…” He groaned. Every single mini-pie that had come out after the first was flawed in some way that left Kuroo satisfied, and while Bokuto was eager to eat them (because honestly half of them weren’t even _that_ bad) his taste buds soon grew tired of the apple pies he was getting. He told Kuroo so many times it was fine, but he wanted it so perfect and they were both getting stressed out over baking of all things that one thing led to another, they started arguing, and now it looked like they had exploded the Michelin Man if he was filled with flour and apples!

Keiji sighed loudly, first helping Bokuto off the floor, dusting the flour off his shirt and face, then plucking out bits of apple in his hair. 

“Very breakfast-y,” he mumbled with a hint of amusement in his flat tone. 

“I’m not hungry, Keiji… I’ve been eating Kuroo’s failed pies all day! My jaws hurt,” Bokuto whined, pointing at his cheek. 

Keiji smiled, stroking his cheek gently. Bokuto really loved that soft and gentle kindness in his voice, and how he knew to cheer him up. Keiji cupped his other cheek and leaned in for a kiss. 

“Excuse me,” Kuroo interrupted. “I’m in despair, here.” 

With surprising force Bokuto was pushed back into the counter, Keiji seemingly having jumped back meters away from him, a wide-eyed panic all over his face. He looked at Bokuto, then at Kuroo, then Bokuto again, then Kuroo, weakly flashing a peace sign.

Red crawled up Keiji’s face as his hands flew up to cover his neck. He had donned one of Bokuto’s shirt (and he really, _really_ liked how they were loose on him) but it couldn’t cover all the marks dotting his skin. “I-I thought he was...” He took a sharp breath, exhaled quickly, and walked back to the room. 

Moments later Keiji came back wearing one of Bokuto’s jackets, zipped all the way up to his chin, covering his neck. Bokuto deflated with disappointment. He wanted to see the marks! Still, he understood that Keiji wasn’t the biggest fan of making out or something like that in front of others. Plus, Kuroo was still upset! 

“If I may guess,” Keiji was back to using his neutral, formal tone, “there was an attempt at baking. Apple pie for Kozume?”

He used Kenma’s last name around others because Keiji only liked using given names in privacy! 

“Yep.” Kuroo said. He picked himself back up, dusting his hair free of flour. Now he looked like an old man, the black hair turned gray in places. “But it just keeps going all wrong for some reason, even if I follow the instructions _exactly._ ” 

Keiji rubbed his chin in thought, his sharp eyes focused on the mess. “May I see the instructions?” 

Kuroo handed him his flour-dusted phone. 

In a matter of minutes, Keiji had Kuroo create two batches of dough. Having rolled up his sleeves, he was going to make the dough with Kuroo for two final mini-pies. Bokuto liked watching him from the front, as he held up Kuroo’s phone for Keiji to watch along a video. Since Keiji was super fast at learning, he managed to knead the dough without a problem. 

Splitting the last of the filling between two tins, they baked the two pies in the oven. Fifteen minutes later, Keiji took them out for a quick comparison. Both pies looked almost the same to Bokuto, except Kuroo’s pie looked a little better. Well, he had more practice so it was just fair! After leaving it to cool they tested it out and Keiji immediately figured it out. 

“It’s because you’re an alpha.” He said. 

Bokuto snorted in laughter, covering his mouth for Kuroo’s sake. 

Kuroo blinked, looking stunned as if Keiji had just slapped him for no reason. “Okay, that’s just alpha-ist, or whatever.” 

Keiji sighed. “What I meant to say was that your innate physical strength is accidentally over-kneading the dough, which led to the hard crusts. It doesn’t matter if you’re following the video or not, you simply apply too much pressure, forming too much gluten in the dough.”

Bokuto didn’t understand any of that ‘glooping’ stuff Keiji just said, but Kuroo’s jaw dropped. He slapped his forehead, leaving a white smear of flour across it.

“Of course! Oh my god, how could I have missed that? Gluten bonds…” he trailed off, muttering more chemistry to himself. “ _Bythewaythanks,_ ” he snuck in, before turning to his phone, tapping furiously away at some notes. 

“All’s well that ends well, ‘Kaashi!” Bokuto said, grinning. 

“Not quite,” his boyfriend said. “You two still have to clean up this mess.” 

\---

“Good work,” Keiji said, kissing his temple. The kitchen was cleaned spotless, the scent of cinnamon and apples remaining in the air. Not that he minded, but man, he was never eating another apple pie ever again! At least Kuroo went home satisfied, and that was all Bokuto needed!

Well, maybe he could do with another one of Keiji’s kisses. 

“Keiji…” He whined, pushing out his bottom lip. “I think I deserve more than one kiss…” 

Keiji rubbed his chin in contemplation once again, which stung! He _does_ deserve another kiss! He stared at Bokuto with a steady, neutral face. “According to what I have observed, Kuroo did 70 percent of the cleaning, whereas you did 30, and that was with constant reminding from me. If anything, Kuroo deserves the kiss.”

“What!? No! Keiji, don’t you dare! You should kiss me instead, please!” 

Breaking out into a chuckle, Keiji cupped the side of his face. “I’m joking. You two worked well, and you deserve this,” he said, bringing their lips close together. 

Bokuto kissed back, his other hand snaking behind Keiji’s waist to pull him close. He sucked on Keiji’s bottom lip slowly, just the way he liked it. In time his mouth would open to let Bokuto’s tongue in, and they’d carry on from here. 

This time, they weren’t having it their way. Bokuto’s phone began to buzz and he was going to ignore it until Keiji pulled away wetly, saying it was the chief with such panic in his voice. It had been ages since his dad had called him so Bokuto nearly forgot what the tone sounded like! 

Groaning, much to Keiji’s chagrin, Bokuto picked up the phone. 

“I’m here, dad.” he said.

Silence.

Bokuto stood up, raising a hand for Keiji not to follow him. 

He went to the balcony, where nobody would be able to hear him. Nervousness crawled up to his stomach as the silence remained on the other end. Dad wasn’t the sort of guy who called out of the blue, and neither was he the type to just keep quiet. Bokuto swallowed hard, tapping his foot as impatience caught up to him. 

A gruff cough was heard on the phone.

Rigid as a statue Bokuto went, as if his body prepared for a strike. He expected some yelling, because surely he would have been in trouble if his dad had to call, right? Wracking his head for any possible reasons, he came up empty. Their numbers for the previous quarter were great, and according to Keiji he had been more productive than ever! As the silence continued on, his imagination began to wander until somehow he was thinking his dad would arrive on the balcony by helicopter, drop down, and challenge him to a fight. Bokuto had gotten in plenty of fights before, that was just part of an alpha’s life, but not once had he ever been struck by his own dad, let alone have to physically fight him! It was stupid to imagine. While his mom was this hyperactive little omega, his dad was cool-headed and quiet; not once had Bokuto ever seen him raise a hand against anyone. Despite that, Bokuto Haruto commanded a powerful presence, where even its absence could be felt. By the time he spoke, Bokuto had been holding the stiff pose for so long, his back was aching. 

_“Koutarou.”_

“H-hi dad,” he said, wanting to slap himself for sounding so pathetic. “How have things been? Man, I haven’t dropped by the house in--”

_“I’ve been told about you and the beta.”_

The beta. 

Bokuto swallowed, plummeting a heavy stone into his gut. Anything he could say right now could potentially be harming, so he chose to remain silent. And so the silence ensued between them, and the longer it stretched, the more Bokuto wanted to fling his phone from the very top floor just so he didn’t have to do all this stuff! His head was racing; already thinking about the possibilities of what his dad could tell him. Would they be forced to break up, Bokuto was already certain he’d argue against it. No matter the consequences. 

_“Since you’re no--”_

“I’m not breaking up with Keiji, dad.” He said.

_“Listen, Koutarou--”_

“I don’t care what you have to say! Keiji and I--”

_“I understand, but I am only--”_

“To hell with whatever you’re going to say! I don’t care!” 

Silence again. 

He waited for his own disowning to happen.

His dad cleared his throat. 

_“To hell with my support, then?”_

Shock struck Bokuto like a pan to the back of the head. Bokuto’s eyes grew wide as he flinched from his stiff position, stumbling back into one of the balcony chairs as he punched triumphantly at the air. He nearly tipped over, but managed to right himself up just in time. Bokuto could barely contain his loud voice, and grateful he was that his apartment was so high up. “Huh? Eh? Wait! Wait, you support us?!”

_“As I have been trying to tell you for the past few minutes. Yes, I do.”_

Once Bokuto had settled down from the elation, he lowered his voice. “Why?”

_“I believe he has been more than a positive influence on you. Though I didn’t expect a beta, of all people. I thought you’d have wanted somebody more… vibrant. Energetic. Somebody who could keep up with you. That Kuroo was my bet against your mother.”_

“Kuroo’s pretty sweet not gonna lie,” Bokuto said, having broken the formalities now that he knew his dad wasn’t out to end his relationship. “Keiji’s the total opposite, but y’know, opposites attract?” He smiled sheepishly to himself, bordering on sure that he used the correct expression. 

_You can ask your mother about that,” he said. “Here she is,”_

The phone was passed, and Bokuto recognized the chirpy voice of his mom. She was an omega, lively and cheerful, the complete opposite of his dad. 

_“Kou! You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend! And that nice little secretary of yours, too! I didn’t think you had taste! That last one… Linny? Lzzie? Oh, I don’t remember! They were horrible!”_

“Aw, Ma!” Bokuto rubbed his head, chuckling to himself. “You guys aren’t mad at me though? Wait, you never told me you didn’t like--”

_“No, we’re not mad! Well, Haru needed a bit more convincing, but I fixed it immediately, right, Haru?”_

There was a soft grunt from the other side, followed by his dad’s grunt of agreement. 

“But how’d you guys know?” Bokuto asked. “We were pretty subtle about it, too…”

His mom’s laugh boomed through the phone.

_“Kou, you’re our kid! It’s just not your blood being subtle! But I do have to say, you have great employees. You must have been treating them well, because that guy… Kokonoa? Kokoro? Well, he tried denying you two were dating. He only cracked when we showed him the pictures!”_

“Pictures!?” Bokuto’s voice went up a few pitches. 

_“Oh Kou, I told you being subtle just isn’t a Bokuto thing! Nobody suddenly cancels all their appointments and buys four tickets to an amusement park for the weekend!”_

Bokuto rubbed the back of his head again. “Aw, I guess I got caught! Wait, does that mean you were stalking me?”

 _“It’s okay! Your dad and I had fun too! And it looked like Tetsu has a little boyfriend of his own, how nice!”_ On his mom went, drifting from topic to topic, with occasional input from his dad. Bokuto was glad for how it was turning out, and they talked for close to an hour before he decided to ask one last question. 

“You’re not allowing this just because I’m the fourth son, right…?” 

There was a pause. 

_“Of course not, Kou. As long as you’re happy… And as long as we get a grandchild out of it!”_

Bokuto laughed. “Okay, okay!”

He was all wide smiles when he went back inside. Keiji approached him with a worried look, and all Bokuto wanted was to hug him. So he did, looping his arms around Keiji’s waist, lifting him up into a hug until his feet were off the ground. 

“K-Koutarou…!” 

“They’re okay with it, Keiji!” He twirled around, Keiji still in his arms. His hold on his shoulders was tight, but Keiji’s face had broken into wide-eyed surprise. 

“They found out?”

“Yep! Mom and Dad were stalking us last week, but it was cool!” 

Keiji’s mouth opened like he wanted to say something, but he closed it right after. Instead he smiled, and rubbed his shoulder to be set down. Bokuto did so gently. 

A powerful sensation was filling his body. He couldn’t quite place it; a mixture of finishing a match of volleyball, or going home after a hard day of work filled with meetings and presentations. The feeling always followed him after a great exertion, or something that kept his nerves on edge for a good while. Tension filled his body as he placed his hands on Keiji’s waist, resting his forehead on his shoulder.

Keiji was quick to return the gesture, and a foreign but welcome silence had settled over them. At times like these, Bokuto kind of wished Keiji had a scent. He could only smell soap, his soap. Not that he minded it, in fact he kind of liked it because it was like a smell that they shared. He understood what Kuroo meant back then when he said pheromones were shortcuts. He and Keiji kind of ‘built’ their relationship without the help of it, and looking back, he realized it was one of the smoothest relationships he had gone through. 

“Hey Keiji, remember my ex Lily? Or uhh… Whatever, I’ve had a lot of exes!”

Keiji pulled away from his hug, though not completely. He stayed within his arms, only with a perplexed and suspicious expression on his pretty face. “What are you getting at here?”

“I’m just saying that, out of all of them, you’re the only one my parents approved of, y’know!” He smiled. 

Realization dawned on Keiji like a bucket of ice-cold water at his face. His eyes were large and his whole body felt stiff, followed by the cherry-red blush that overtook his whole face, shielding it away from Bokuto’s eyes by covering his face with his hand. “V-very honored, _nowthatyou’vesaiditoutloud,_ ”

“Aww, you’re embarrassed again! Don’t be!” With relative ease he began hauling them back to the bedroom. “Keiji, you’re always so amazing, I just don’t know why you don’t see it! You’re always doing work so well, everyone looks up to you, and even my parents trust you!” 

“A-ah…” His blush turned into a deeper red. “Is that so…?” 

Bokuto nodded, gently setting Keiji down on the bed. “Yup! And I’m gonna say this now, but y’know when we got together, the problem was like, ‘how do we date without my parents knowing?’”

Keiji nodded, glancing around for some reason before tugging on his shirt for him to sit beside him. “Go on...”

“But with you there isn’t really anything else? I mean, I think it’s mostly me who’s the problem sometimes--” 

A finger shushed him. Keiji looked serious. “Don’t say that.” 

Bokuto felt a tenderness in his heart just hearing Keiji defend him from… himself? He shook his head, taking Keiji’s finger and putting it aside. “I admit I have flaws! C’mon Keiji, doesn’t mean we’re dating, you can’t tell me off anymore!” 

“...Where is this coming from?” Keiji asked, looking suspicious again.

Bokuto wrinkled his brow, rubbing his chin as he tried to say it. “I just… y’know, wanna be a better boyfriend to you? And I don’t want to be babied, I guess! Well, not _immediately,_ I mean I still don’t know how to do taxes-- do I do taxes? Doesn’t matter, the point is, you make me wanna grow up a little, Keiji. Is that a bad thing?” 

Taking his time to weigh out his answers while Bokuto waited, nervousness slowly edging up on him, Keiji smiled gently and shook his head. “I don’t think so, and I am incredibly flattered to hear that from you. Since I have your permission, I suppose I may tell you a few things,”

“Wait, already? Aw, man! I must have been doing way worse than I thought!” Bokuto flopped on the bed, staring at the ceiling as he tried going through his actions. The only thing he’s done this morning is mess up the kitchen with Kuroo, and they probably made a lot of noise with their arguing which woke Keiji up. 

Keiji slid over him, straddling his hips. “Sometimes you go too fast.” 

“Uh, Keiji…?” Bokuto wasn’t hating it, but he had questions. 

“Other times you grip me a little too hard,” he said, sliding down his waistband. 

He just remembered he wasn’t wearing any underwear, and that Keiji was now sitting on his bare dick. 

“Um, should I stop?” Keiji asked. There was nervousness at the edge of his voice. Keiji was testing just how far he should keep going.

Bokuto swallowed hard, nodding. He raised his hands to hold his waist, to show him his answer, but to his surprise Akaashi met his hands, slipping his graceful fingers in between his, clasping firmly like he had just caught them. 

“Sometimes, you do things without asking.”

He had a feeling in his throat that Keiji was trying something new. He had this focused expression on, like how he looked figuring out Bokuto’s spreadsheets the first time he saw them on his face, he still looked good though Bokuto kind of felt like he was about to get experimented on. Not that he hated that kind of focus on him. How could he, when Keiji was taking the initiative? More importantly he was kind of digging this type of play. His cock twitched between Keiji’s ass, earning it a quick glance from Keiji who sat up straighter but paid it no mind. Something screamed in Bokuto for attention. _Pay attention to my dick! Don’t just ignore it!_

But it appeared that he wasn’t going to get attention. He wiggled his hips in protest, gripping their fists together in silent protest; in want and need. 

“I’m sorry, is this too--” Keiji was shaking his head, moving to get off. 

“C-can you please… touch me?”

The beta froze in his spot, before settling back down on the alpha’s cock. It got nestled right between his asscheeks, and only now did he notice Keiji wasn’t wearing underwear under his sweatpants either. Immediately his dick stiffened, rising to fill the cleft between Keiji’s cheeks, and he responded by grinding his hips, stimulating them both. 

Bokuto rose to meet his lips but Keiji let go of his hand, pushing him back down with a steady free hand. He wagged a fingertip telling him no, and Bokuto, captured by the Keiji’s bold actions stayed down, a breath caught in his throat threatened to come out to say something, and yet he held his silence for once. Anticipation rose in Bokuto. 

He had never seen Keiji like this. 

The hand on his chest traveled down his abdomen. Shivers shot up Bokuto’s spine, and his dick twitched again. It was straining against the fabric, begging to be touched because what Keiji was doing was so, so, so hot. 

Sensing his need, Keiji lifted Bokuto’s shirt off and threw it aside. He did the same to his own, revealing all the love marks little and large; all the hickeys and bite marks. He almost felt bad how dark some of them were, but each time he bit, Keiji would tighten up around him so much. He wasn’t always dumb; he knew what a pleased partner looked and _felt_ like. 

Their pants followed afterwards, flung haphazardly by Keiji who acted with impatience-- almost. Free from its constraints, Bokuto’s dick sprung free, standing like a thick and engorged pillar that Keiji was comfortable ignoring in favor of leaning above him, hands pressed against the mattress by his head, locking Bokuto in place. Akaashi’s eyes were dark, half-lidded, and though Bokuto knew in the back of his head that there was absolutely nothing he had to fear, partly because Keiji was Keiji, and the smallest part because he was a beta and he could overpower him anytime, a sliver of strange excitement had made its way into his consciousness. 

God he wanted to kiss Keiji so much. 

In the back of his mind a loud voice was telling him no, and he was entertaining just what would happen to him if he disobeyed and went right for it, but Keiji’s somehow kept him down. He bit back a growl, though he was unable to stop the waves of pheromones rolling off him. 

“Keiji,” he panted, nudging the beta with his hips. His cock against bare skin had never felt so good; and he wanted more, and he was sure Keiji knew. 

Keiji was silent, like he was weighing his options. He looked nervous, or so Bokuto thought. His eyes were flitting here and there, an expression often seen when Bokuto made a mess in his office fifteen minutes before he was supposed to have visitors over. 

“Koutarou, open your mouth.” Keiji whispered in his ear.

Shivers. Bokuto gulped hard and nodded. He parted his lips, and Keiji slowly traced his lower lips with his index finger. His touch was light, ticklish, and held Bokuto on a line of suspense. By instinct he knew what was happening next: Keiji tested his response by sliding the finger in, and Bokuto licked his fingers, coating them slick with spit. 

He pushed another finger in, and Bokuto gave a muffled moan as they slid further into his mouth. 

“Your teeth are sharp,” Keiji said. He drew in a shaky breath. “Very sharp.” 

And Bokuto was salivating, trying to keep up with the light curling of Keiji’s fingers. When Keiji tugged, Bokuto released them with a pop, his tongue poking out of his mouth and a line of saliva connecting it to the coated fingers. 

“If I may,” Keiji said, in his polite tone which Bokuto knew he used around him when he was being shy. Clearing his throat, he lifted himself from Bokuto’s waist, his lips pursed into a thin line like he wanted to say something but was holding back. (Kind of like how he looks when Bokuto was doing something not quite right, but not quite wrong at work.) 

“Keiji, tell me,” Bokuto breathed, his hands trembling. Should he touch Keiji? He wanted to hold his slender waist and slide his hands up to his sides where Keiji shivered at his fingertips. 

Taking a deep breath, Keiji leaned over again, his face nearing Bokuto, who expected a kiss. He stopped just inches from his lips, supported by an elbow on the bed, and the other hand reaching back. “When you finger me...” 

Bokuto had never wanted to listen to the end of a sentence so bad. Does he finger Keiji good? His fingers were thick, and he knew from past experiences (albeit with omegas) that he pleased them enough. 

“...It’s a bit rough sometimes.”

“Eh?” He blinked. “Keiji, are you sure?” 

Keiji looked at him like he had just asked a stupid question. It _was_ probably a stupid question. 

“T-that’s why... ngh, I’m going to teach you…” He exhaled shakily, shuddering over him. Keiji dipped his head low, resting it on his collarbone. His forehead-- no, his whole body was hot and quivering. Unable to resist himself, Bokuto reached for Keiji’s cheeks, and spread them. He moaned softly against his ear, and Bokuto’s mind blanked out. For a second, the beta looked cross at the sudden touch, and Bokuto grinned sheepishly. Grunting softly, Keiji slipped a finger inside of himself, quickly followed by another. With each thrust of his fingers, he moaned louder against Bokuto’s neck. 

“Shit Keiji,” Bokuto growled. “You’re so hot. Ride me.” He bit his bottom lip, squeezing his boyfriend’s tender ass. His dick was twitching, and it was all so new and sexy to him, he was already leaking a lot of precum. Keiji hasn’t even touched him that much, yet! Even he was dripping all over Bokuto’s stomach, and yet he wasn’t allowed to touch. 

“Not until I’m prepared,” Keiji said. “I-it’s not all about thrus…” He inhaled sharply, spine curling up. “Not just thrusting, y-you have to find a-a spot,” 

Fuck. Bokuto didn’t know how much more of this he could take. “What spot? I’ll find it, Keiji just please--”

Keiji kissed him. Tenderly. His mind completely blanked out, and all arguments or pleas died in his throat. “You’ll h-have to follow my directions, okay?” 

“Okay.” Bokuto said, stunned. 

Keiji kissed him again, on the forehead his time. “Good. Good, Koutarou.” 

Bokuto’s dick jerked in response. 

Keiji gave a low moan as he slowly pulled out his fingers from himself. Pushing himself off Bokuto, he got into a comfortable position propped up by the pillows. His face was red with sweat, eyes were half-lidded, and lips moistened. He looked beautiful just like that, and now he was spreading his legs as an invitation for Bokuto to try it out. 

He was eager, coming up to Keiji on his hands and knees. He towered over the beta, and yet in Keiji’s eyes was a certain command, and Bokuto waited for the instructions; breathing hard through his nose, inhaling and exhaling. He was searching for a scent, but only smelled soap and his own pheromones, thick and heavy in the room. He grit his teeth. _“Keiji._ He growled again with impatience. 

“Lube.” Keiji grabbed the bottle from the side-table. 

Once his fingers were coated, Keiji spread himself for him. Slowly, Bokuto pushed a finger inside. Keiji was hot, and twitched around his finger. With the lube, it was easy getting another inside; helped by the face he was already so slick. It’s like he was being sucked in, and he looked at him for what to do next. 

“T-try to ah... curl your fingers. Gently,” he shuddered, as Bokuto followed. Akaashi’s eyelids fluttered, and he tilted his head back with a satisfied sigh. 

Bokuto wanted to apologize to every single one of the partners he had ever had because right then and there, he realized just how satisfying it felt to please someone, even when his own dick was unattended. A growl caught itself in his throat. He kept curling his finger, his mind chanting for him to find ‘that spot;’ to please someone else before himself. He wanted to make Keiji moan and shudder with his fingers alone, and have him begging for more. 

“Ah!” Keiji moaned, nearly sitting up as he arched his back. He squeezed around Bokuto’s finger as he brushed a tender spot. Quickly relocating it, he pressed with his middle finger, eager to see how his boyfriend would respond. Keiji groaned, gripping Bokuto’s arm like he was pushing him away. With another hand he covered his own face, deeply flushed. Always one to hide his shy expressions, whenever Keiji fails to hide it properly, Bokuto always found that side of him adorable.

“Should I stop?” He asked, just to make sure. He slowed his fingers in case.

“No,” Keiji shuddered. “Don’t.”

Bokuto took the hand covering Keiji’s face by the wrist, and kissed it. 

For some reason this caused Keiji to completely tighten around his finger. 

Only then did Bokuto remember he kissed Keiji’s wrist like that a while back, and the silliest grin made its way to his face. 

“Aww, Keiji…” Just to tease him, Bokuto pressed the spot, causing him to buck his hips uncontrollably. 

Keiji swallowed hard, “K-Koutarou, pull out.” It sounded like it was difficult for him to say that, given how tightly he was twitching and sucking him in. Keiji’s dick was dribbling precum all over his stomach, rolling down his hips and thighs.

Slowly, obediently, he pulled his fingers out, hearing a wet noise accompanied by a pleased whimper from Keiji. 

Once he had regained his breath, they switched positions. Keiji swung his leg over Bokuto, his waist just above his dick. To Bokuto, Keiji looked breathtaking. The sweat-slicked skin and flushed face, his toned body, those pert nipples of his, and those graceful hands scooping up Bokuto’s face to draw him in for a kiss. His lips were hot, and sucked hungrily at his mouth. Bokuto was eager to respond, nibbling on his lips and while his hands explored Keiji’s body. 

Keiji broke the kiss first, giving Bokuto a look that sent twinges of pleasure down his spine. 

“I’ll ride you.” 

“God, yes.” 

Keiji smiled, which was seldom in itself, and suddenly Bokuto was feeling all fuzzy inside. Raising his hips over Bokuto’s erect dick, Keiji put lube on his hands and rubbed it all over the hard length. Bokuto jerked his hips at the sensation, a low rumble in his throat sounding out. He kept his fists gripping the sheets, resisting his instincts to just ram Keiji then and there. Deep breaths. 

Slowly, Keiji spread himself over Bokuto, guiding the thick head to his entrance. He sank down with a groan, trembling hard as it entered him inch by inch. 

He felt so hot, and so needy. Bokuto wanted to shove it deep inside, and he helped Keiji by thrusting his hips slowly, and it was one of the hardest things he had ever done, and yet seeing his boyfriend’s face shift gradually into pleasure, it was more than enough to hold him back. 

But _fuck,_ did Keiji feel so good.

Once he was hilted all the way to the bottom, Bokuto released his tight grip on the sheets, and held Keiji’s cheeks in silent demand for him to move. Keiji did so, panting softly. Bokuto groaned at the feeling of him, how tightly he was being gripped, and how he twitched. Keiji always felt eager, even if his face didn’t reveal much. Even if he didn’t have a scent. Bokuto’s instinct for scent was gone; instead he wanted to make his partner feel good. 

“Y-you’re still scenting. I’m not a-an omega,” Keiji said, a touch of bitterness in his voice.

“You’re Keiji.” Bokuto growled, bringing his lips to his ear. “And you’re so beautiful,” He traced the edge with nibbles and kisses while Keiji shuddered at his words and rolled his hips, slowly building more speed to his thrusts. Bokuto gyrated to meet his, now preoccupied with leaving as much bites around the other man’s neck and collarbone as he could, re-marking his territory; ensuring Keiji would always know he was his. By then their thrusts had gotten more frantic, and Bokuto’s grip on his waist was digging down to his hip bones. Bruises they could take care of later. But their lust for each other needed attending to now. They fucked in a flurry of kisses, bites, moans, scratches; calling each other’s name, how good they felt, and how much they loved: loved how they moved, loved how they were being pleased, and loved each other. Bokuto wasn’t thinking anymore, and neither was Keiji as they both approached their climax together.

Arching his back, Keiji came, splattering his cum against Bokuto’s skin with a loud cry of wanton pleasure. It was messy, sticky, a hot, white, and stringy mess all over his chest and abdomen. Pleasure ran white hot through Bokuto’s entire body, reaching the ends of his fingers and toes before he came inside him, mere seconds after Keiji did, pumping him full of cum with each deep thrust. When he couldn’t take it anymore, tugged him down and with a sharp thrust, pushed his thick knot inside with a loud groan of pleasure. Keiji gasped, throwing his head back, his eyes wide, mouth agape in shock or pleasure, or both. 

\---

“Keiji, it’s just twenty minutes! Or maybe thirty!” 

“You should have warned me first.” 

Bokuto whined. “I was so into it! I’m sorry! Do you hate it?” 

Keiji coughed. “...I don’t. But I can already predict I’ll be aching tomorrow.” 

He whimpered, hugging Keiji, who was still confined to his lap because of the knot. They used one of the poor pillowcases to clean themselves as they had so haphazardly flung their clothes to the other end of the room. “I don’t just put my knot in anyone, y’know!” 

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Keiji said, a slight blush on his face, “but that isn’t going to change the fact that I will suffer the consequences.”

“I’ll never do it again!” 

“That’s not what I’m saying. It was just very sudden, and I would appreciate a warning next time.”

“Next time?!” Bokuto’s mouth was wide open. 

“...I needed some time to get used to its… thickness.” Keiji was avoiding eye contact and Bokuto desperately wanted to look at him right now. 

“You have twenty minutes! Or thirty!” Bokuto pointed out, trying to be helpful. 

Keiji sighed, though he had a small smile on his face. “I suppose I do. This isn’t so bad, for now.” 

“See? We should always make the most of a positive situation. We get to cuddle now~” He grinned, holding him close. He rested his head against Akaashi’s chest, and he could hear the gentle heartbeat. 

A few moments passed by in silence. 

“Hey, Keiji? I know I do that scenting stuff, it’s kind of an alpha thing… But I don’t really care if you’ve got no scent. After a while I don’t really notice it anymore! Also, this is gonna sound so cheesy, but whatever! I uh, really like pillow talk so… I’m glad you don’t pass out after every time we bang.” 

Keiji stared at him for a few seconds, then burst into a fit of chuckles. Each laugh of his made him tighten around Bokuto. It was so fortunate he was already spent.

Bokuto flushed with embarrassment. “Aw, man! You probably think I’m a big loser now, or something! Keiji, un-hear it right now, please!”

“I think it’s too late for that,” Keiji said, a smile on his face. “I already know you are. Koutarou, you’re not the brightest, but your optimism is blinding. You are also very capable at things you excel in, and surprisingly dependable when guided properly. I appreciate these parts of you, even things that make you seem like a ‘loser.’ Admittedly though, you have won my heart.”

Bokuto’s chest felt close to exploding. He kissed Keiji on the lips fast. “T-that was so cool! Teach me how to say things like that!” 

Keiji would shake his head, and tell him it was actually a very embarrassing thing to say, but Bokuto didn’t care. They carried on like that, reaching any topic they could think of until Bokuto could pull out, and carry him to the bathroom where they both enjoyed a pleasant bath in the tub, since Keiji didn’t trust the strength of his knees to shower.

Later on, while cuddling on the bed, Bokuto opened his phone to numerous messages from his siblings. 

HIroto :o : _I heard from mom and dad. You have my blessing as well. Akaashi was a splendid employee, and I only wish the best for you two._

ICHIBRO!!: _Bruh WTF you didnt tell me???? WE’RE NOT BROS ANYMORE JK ILY MAN BROS 4 LYF_  
_AND ALSO AKAASHI IS LIKE THE BOMB_  
_NEXT TIME I DROP BY THE CITY DINNER’S ON ME K!!!!!_

MITSUKO :DDD: _I am like FLOORED by this news. Literally cannot *wait* to hear about your love story in person. I never thought you had it in you to keep a secret, and for longer than a week like omg my baby brother is all grown up!! If you ever need anything, you know your older sis is just a call away <3 _

It was heartwarming. He responded to all of them with all the enthusiasm and happiness in the world, thanking them for their support, promising to catch up, and everything else. 

Now he had to tell his friends. 

Opening up the group chat Bokuto typed in:

Boogerto: _HEY_  
_HEY_  
_HEY_  
_GUYS GUESS WHAT_  
_MY PARENTS FOUND OUT_  
_WHO CHANGED MY NAME TO BOOGERTO_

_Oinkawa: omg did they find out_

Boogerto: _CHANGE IT BACK >:(((_  
_HELL YEAH MY MOM DID!!! BUT THEYRE COOL WITH IT_

TettyKurooker: _Dude u say it like youre secretly keeping a pet in ur room HAHAHA_  
_But holy shit that’s sick dude, we should celebrate_  
_Let’s drink :)_

_Oinkawa: i did <3 do u like ur new name @Boogerto <33 @Iwankoff came up with it hes busy rn tho_  
_holy shit CONGRATS you little booger!!_  
_LET’S GO MY TREAT_

TettyKurooker: _Is he sucking your dick rn @Oinkawa_

Oinkawa: _he wishes :( but he has to do actual work while I’m having a checkup like some loser :(((_

Boogerto: _OH SHIT DUDE_  
_HOWS TEH KNEE??_

Oinkawa: _same as usual so i dont really see the point to going every year BUT IWA IS A BITCH!!_  
_@Iwankoff bitch_  
_anyways thats off topic WHEN ARE WE DRINKING im free in like 3 weeks can u believe??_

TettyKurooker: _Woooow ur finally coming down from your pedestal to spend time with us mortals? Honored, truly_  
_But also Im down anytime but Im not free when that party shit happens for the product next week eugh_

Boogerto: _LETS GO WHEN OINKAWA IS FREE_  
_ALSO KUROO I FORGOT TO TELL YOU EARLIER CHANGE OF PLANS BRO_

TettyKurooker: _What_

Boogerto: _THEY SAID BRING KENMA TO THE THING SINCE YOU SPREAD IT TO THE LAB UR DATING THEY WANNA INTERVIEW HIM_

TettyKurooker: _Oh, FUCK me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hi I KNOW ITS LATE but we're finally through the intermission! In theory, this is the 2nd to the last intermission, as we only have between 7-9 chapters before the story ends. I know, it's gonna be long because I won't have that much time to write but I'll keep writing it! I'm still doing my internship to updates will still be pretty unpredictable, unfortunately :( 
> 
> Anyways, like I said in the tags this story is mostly just alphas getting whipped for their S/Os hehe :) We've gotten two smut chapters in a row and I'm slowly getting the hang of them! Also writing Bo has gotten better for me haha
> 
> Lastly, thank you guys for the support! All the kudos and comments are so good for my soul you don't even know hehe


	25. Party & Favors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo asks Kenma for favors, and in exchange Kenma finds out more about Kuroo's past.

“Kenma, you’re going to have to do me the biggest solid of my life.”

“No.” 

“Please. We need you there. _I_ need you there.”

“ _Please,_ I’m begging you!”

“Beg harder.” 

“Kenma!” 

Kenma turned on his side, bringing most of the blankets over on his side. It was warm, with Kuroo’s chest pressed against his back, and the entirety of the bed’s blankets wrapped around him. He felt so cozy and comfortable, which is why he could tell his boyfriend that no, he is not going to that party, no matter what. 

Kuroo would keep whining, nevertheless. He’d annoy Kenma the way he knew best, but gripping him in a tight hug and digging his stupid chin in the crook of his neck, saying his name in various ‘begging’ tones. Kenma, Kenma, Kenma, Kuroo would repeat like a broken record right next to his ear, trying to annoy him into submission. It didn’t help that with each movement of his jaw, his chin would dig into his neck, tickling him only a very scant amount, totally not bothering his game at all.

He curled into a tighter ball, shaking his head to say it’s not working at all.

“Remember the apple pie I made you yesterday, and how it was so good you cried? I can make it again, just for you if you go to this party with me, _please._ ”

Kenma shook his head. He lifted his face out of the blankets to say, “You’d do it for my anytime if I asked,” before returning to his blankety haven. 

“Okay fair,” Kuroo said, sighing. He began rhythmically patting Kenma’s hip. “Something tells me games won’t cut it, so how about a new phone?”

He perked up at that, but shook his head. The thought of a new phone that could play mobile games without draining the battery in thirty minutes was nice, but it wasn’t going to work. He wasn’t about to be swayed just because Kuroo said--

“New laptop?”

Kenma popped his head out of the blankets, a cross look over his face. “You wouldn’t.” 

Kuroo grinned, gripping Kenma’s hip. “I would! If it means getting you to that party with me.”

“Ugh,” Kenma groaned, already feeling drained at the prospect. “It sounds so stuffy, and there would be people there. I’d hate it.” 

“Hey, I know I’d hate it too,” he said. “But at least we’ll suffer together!” 

“You’re not making a very good argument here…”

“New phone and laptop. Party with me.” 

“Let me think about it.” He mumbled. A moment passed. “Okay I’ve thought about it.”

“So you’d---”

“I hate parties, or really any social gatherings larger than four people total. I also dislike all that pretentiousness, and the effort of dressing up just to talk to people you don’t even know or like is already draining me just thinking about it. When it comes to things like that, I’d really rather not attend, but I know that people will think badly of me if I don’t.” 

Kenma recalled the times he was in high school, and how they were taught useless classes like dance, or table etiquette to ‘prepare them for the future.’ He found those classes so boring, and so presumptuous that he was completely fine scraping past the passing mark when he got his report card. It didn’t make up for all the humiliation of stumbling over himself, but at least he had it over with. Once he finished high school, he completely erased any memories of dancing and etiquette meant to prepare them for ‘life with alphas.’ 

Did he regret it? Not in the slightest. There were more important things than outdated traditions. 

Kuroo sighed. “Now that you’ve put it that way, I guess I can’t really force you to go.”

“No, listen. What I’m trying to say is, I’ll do it.” 

Kuroo’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding. You just went on a spiel about how you hated parties!” 

“I do. I despise them. But,”

“But new gadgets, I get’cha,” Kuroo chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. 

Kenma shook his head. “Not just that…” All of a sudden being underneath the blankets became unbearably hot, starting from his face, the tips of his ears, and reaching all the way to his toes. “I’m just... Doing you a big solid, is all…” 

Kenma absolutely hated the touched gasp Kuroo made. Brought into a crushing hug, he groaned until Kuroo let him go. 

“You like me so much,” he said, with that boyish smile. 

_‘Duh,’_ Kenma wanted to say, but didn’t because he knew Kuroo would never let it go. “You’re so annoying.” 

“And yet you agreed to be my date. I should annoy you more often~”

“You’re annoying me right now.” He grumbled. 

“Really.” Kuroo said, having flipped Kenma over to face him in a quick motion. He pressed their foreheads together, the fringe of his bed head tickling Kenma’s cheek.

“Really, really,” Kenma muttered back. “Always annoying me into doing things,”

Easily playing along, Kuroo chuckled gently. His hand brushed Kenma’s cheek tenderly, tucking a lock of stray blonde hair behind his ear. His warm touch traced the edge, sending tickles “Tell me what kind of things.”

Deciding to spoil Kuroo a bit, Kenma placed his hand on Kuroo’s waist, grinning at the tiny flinch when his cold fingers touched the warm skin underneath his shirt. “Clothes shopping.”

Kuroo hummed, the noise closer to a purr as Kenma slid his hand up, tracing his firm back. He was built like a statue, another thing that annoyed him because Kuroo knew it. He copied Kenma’s gesture, drawing vague shapes all over his back. Unlike Kenma, Kuroo’s hands were warm most of the time. Pleased with Kenma’s soft grunt, Kuroo grinned. 

“Going outside. Doing the groceries, too.” Kenma mumbled, drawing a blank for the things Kuroo had ‘annoyed’ him into. Admittedly, he enjoyed most things with Kuroo. It wasn’t like before where going anywhere and doing something could potentially put him in harm, and money was no longer any worry. But it wasn’t just that; Kuroo himself made everything better. He was a reassuring presence; funny and playfully obnoxious in the way Kenma never thought he’d come to like. And an alpha of all people! 

“Tell me more,” Kuroo said. He was playfully twirling Kenma’s hair. He was contemplating a haircut a few days ago, but knowing Kuroo liked long hair, he thought against it. Plus, he was too lazy to go to a barbershop for a little trim. 

“You must love hearing me complain so much,” Kenma said. “Weirdo.” 

“I just like hearing you talk.” Kuroo said, a gentle smile over his face. 

Kenma gripped Kuroo’s back, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “You’re so sappy,” he muttered; Kuroo’s shiver did not escape him. Out of curiosity (a lie, because he knew what it would do) Kenma kissed his neck, lightly grazing the skin with his lips after. The goosebumps that followed did not escape him either; nor the way Kuroo curled and stretched his toes. 

Kuroo’s voice was caught in his throat. Kenma heard and felt him swallow hard. “Does it annoy you?”

“Not all the time.” 

“Not all the time.” He said, a touch of relief in his voice like he had anything to be worried about. “You must be so forgiving,” he said. 

Kenma shook his head. “Not really… I just never say anything. It’s not like I can do anything about it most of the time.” That was the truth; because most of the time guys like him were powerless about anything that could happen. 

Kuroo grunted. “Hey, you know you can always tell me things, right? I’ll try to do my best.” 

Thankful that his face is conveniently close to Kuroo,’s neck, Kenma smiled. “Thanks, but I think you’re doing a lot already, Kuro.”

“But I want to do more,” he said, with a strange soft volume to his voice. Almost like he’s apologizing. I want to be a good… boyfriend to you.” 

Kenma turned his head to look, suddenly concerned. “You’re acting strange,” 

His chuckle came as a surprise to Kenma. “Am I?” 

“Don’t tease me,” Kenma grunted. “Kuro, be honest.”

He was only given another laugh in return. “I am being honest! I’m the most honest man in the worl-- Ow, ow, ow, oww!”

Kenma pinched his ear, pulling it up. In all the time he got to know Kuroo, this was something new and unprecedentedly so. Well, not it was unexpected. It’s not like they knew each other for years. Right now, it just felt like unlocking a new and secret route by accident in a visual novel, only Kenma knew that the world of games was different from real life, and he, like Kuroo told him earlier, could tell or ask Kuroo anything he wanted outside coded dialogue options. 

“Tell me what you mean,” he demanded, pulling harder with each word. 

“Hey, no violence! Kenma c’mon, I was just joking!”

He wasn’t satisfied with that answer, and frowned. “I can tell you’re not joking.”

Halting, Kuroo sighed and gently pried Kenma’s hand away from his ear, who relented with a huff. “Well, I mean, I just want to be a better person, that’s all.”

“I don’t understand,” Kenma said. “You’re already a good person.”

“Even a super-duper perfect guy like me has some insecurities~” Kuroo grinned, switching back to his usual self. A wall had been put up between them, built up by Kuroo’s playful demeanor. He decided not to pry any further, knowing that trying to force something like that would just lead to Kuroo clamming up more. He didn’t like the thought of it, and would rather wait for Kuroo to open up himself. Just like how Kuroo waited with him. 

\---

Nothing like fear, anxiety, panic, peppered with a distinct class alienation to start off his a perfectly pleasant Wednesday afternoon. When Kuroo decided to wake him up early (and already after Kenma had turned off his alarms thrice) and told him to put on “some nice clothes” Kenma should have seen it coming. Instead of staring at his phone screen through the duration of the trip, he should have observed them driving towards the outskirts A-blocks. There, the streets were wide and almost uncannily clean; lined with tall palm trees uniform in size. Shops lined the block: all designer, all recognizable brands; from high-end luxury bags, designer clothing, jewelry sparkling like stars. He felt nauseous just looking at it all, the overwhelming richness, the perfectly-dressed folk walking their dogs or pushing their children in strollers, and desired nothing more than to disappear. 

“We’re just getting suits,” Kuroo said, squeezing his leg. Kuroo’s hand was massive, he just remembered, and was warm. “C’mon, I’ll be there with you. You won’t leave my sight.”

“Eyes on the road,” Kenma said, in a tone he admit was colder than he intended. 

“Whaaat…” Kuroo whined, squeezing his leg again. 

A sliver of guilt crept up on Kenma. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t go… But I hate the A-blocks.” And the B-blocks surrounding it. It’s not as if he could change the feeling in months when he spent his whole life in C or D-blocks, but with Kuroo by his side those places were bearable enough. 

He smiled in understanding, reaching to rub Kenma’s head, his hands brushing Kenma’s ear and Kenma had to suppress a shiver as his hands flew up to protect his ear, dropping his phone on his lap. 

“You’re doing that on purpose!” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kuroo said, grinning evilly. “How could you accuse _me_ of anything when I look so innocent?”

“I hate you.” 

And Kuroo hummed, unfazed by Kenma’s words. One last playful ruffle, and his hands were back on the wheel. They pulled up at a parking lot with a high flat rate, given Kuroo’s grimace after passing the booth, and headed down the street holding hands. It made walking in public easier with Kuroo’s tall stature acting as a shield. How he wished he could just play games while walking with Kuroo guiding him like they usually do, but despite that he didn’t want to appear any more standoffish than he probably was. As stupid as it was, other people always factored into his own comfort. 

After a few minutes of walking through an endless rows of outlets and restaurants they stopped in front of small, humbly elegant store. It looked far more inviting than anywhere he had seen with a cozy interior. Inside, aged leather seats well-cared for, no ostentatious carpets, and warm lighting from a chandelier above head, just past the display window of suited-up mannequins. If it were a cafe, Kenma wouldn’t have minded spending extra cash for a cup of hot cocoa there every once in a while. It was nowhere ostentatious like the other stores, and he didn’t even see the nameplate until Kuroo opened the door, a soft tinkle of a bell announcing their arrival in Inari Custom Tailoring. 

“Good morning, sirs.” Said a polite voice. 

Both he and Kuroo flinched at the sudden presence of the man. He was taller than Kenma, only by two inches, but noticeably shorter than Kuroo. His short hair was a light gray with dark tips, and he wore a simple black tie and vest over an immaculate dress shirt. He had no nametag, but Kenma could tell he was a beta.

“Ah... Kita, was it?” Kuroo put on a smile after settling himself, and extended a hand. Kita shook it firmly. “Kuroo Tetsurou, and my partner, Kenma.” 

“Shinsuke Kita, at your service.” He turned to Kenma, and bowed as well. “Please, take a seat,” he said, gesturing at the couches. “I shall ready the swatches in a moment,” he said, with an elegant bow before turning to a drawer concealed cleverly in one of the wooden display shelves. The swatches were kept in black binders which Kita presented; one to Kuroo, and one for Kenma. 

Kita encouraged them to look through the binders for any colors or textures that caught their attention. He was attentive and helpful; he didn’t even mind Kuroo constantly shifting from such and such fabrics, or at least his face didn’t betray it. It was also considerate of him to ask questions, such as the event they were attending, what level of comfort did they like, the temperature, and to Kenma’s surprise, even the weight of the cloth came to factor into choosing the fabric. Did they want patterns? Did they prefer natural cloths, or were synthetic ones fine? Kenma’s head was spinning, trying to juggle this and that, but Kita’s calm demeanor betrayed no distaste towards his obvious inexperience with such things, attentive to his pauses to add facts or other tidbits about the material and guide him towards a decision. After a brief discussion, occasionally asking Kita for advice, they both settled on a matching blend of black wool and mohair, a smooth fabric that had a gentle sheen to it. According to Kita, it was a suit that held its shape well to emphasize form. Perfect for Kuroo who had an athletic build, and Kenma’s lithe frame. 

“Wool-mohair is an excellent choice for formal events,” Kita said, nodding and taking the swatches. “Now then, shall we proceed with the measurements?” He gestured towards a section of the shop, hidden away by a curtain. Drawing the curtains, Kita revealed a tidy workstation. Swathes of cloth marked with measurements were stacked over the hardwood table. The tools were kept in wooden boxes, not a single one missing or crooked. Beside the table were shelves of organized spools of colored threads and other unmarked fabrics. A sewing machine caught Kenma’s attention; reminiscent of an old time like the Victorian age, with a circular crank or wheel of sorts. It showed signs of age, yet was shiny and looked well-maintained. Some of the floral designs had faded, but that just lent it more charm.

“An heirloom from my grandmother,” Kita said, a twitch of a smile on his lips. 

Kenma and Kuroo shared a look of surprise with a raise of their brows. Until now, Kita had not shown a single crack of emotion. The smile suited him; it made him look gentle. 

Kita approached the table and drew a roll of measuring tape from one of the boxes, the smile now faded from his face leaving Kenma to wonder if he had even smiled at all. “Well then, who shall go first?” 

"Kenma, you go first." Kuroo said, nudging him forward. 

Kenma shot him a glare of protest, but went over to Kita without a word. Kuroo snickered, but his face turned stony and analytical, reflected by one of the standing mirrors. Kenma glanced away, partly because of his own reflection, and partly because eye contact with Kuroo would surely make him grin or make a goofy face to try and make him laugh in front of Kita. 

Fortunately the measuring took place without incident. Though Kenma flinched at the initial touches of his arms and legs, Kita worked quickly, his touches light and never lingering more than they should. He considered both Kenma's distaste for strangers' touch and the fact he was handling an alpha's partner. He nodded to inform Kuroo he was going to touch Kenma beforehand, and barely spoke aside from a few instructions: please lift your arms, straighten your back, stand with your feet aligned with your shoulders. He only wrote down the measurements when he was finished, leaving Kenma silently amazed at his memory and work ethic. Kita reminded him of Akaashi, who could probably do it if he practiced enough. 

With Kita's quickness, the measurements took no more than a few minutes, and to his relief it wasn't as bad as Kenma thought. He got nervous at times when Kita measured his wrists or ankles because of how thin they were, and he held his breath once his chest and waist were wrapped with tape. Sure, he wasn't relaxed in the slightest, but Kuroo's presence was reassuring to have at the time.

Once Kenma was finished, Kuroo stepped forward for his turn. He took far longer than Kenma, smaller and shorter than Kita, who had to stretch his arms just to measure the length from one end of Kuroo's wrist to the other. Kuroo was large, that much he knew, but seeing how much measuring tape his body was taking up lent Kenma an odd satisfaction. Quickly enough the satisfaction leapt out of chest and turned into a biting jealousy that Kenma had to grit his teeth to keep from snapping. Kita was touching Kuroo's chest, his thumbs spreading a line of tape over his pecs, reaching 40, 41, 42 inches. 

Kuroo didn’t look fazed by it, his expression half-lidded and bored which somehow annoyed him, who wanted more of a bothered look on the alpha’s face. Turning to catch his eyes, Kuroo’s face shifted into concern, waving Kita off to excuse himself and walk up to him. 

“You look constipated, you need to take a dump?” He asked, his voice marked with concern. 

Kenma choked, the brief spike of jealousy dissipating with Kuroo’s silly questions. “I don’t,” he said, shaking his head, realizing suddenly how hot his head had become.

“You’re smiling,” Kuroo said, pinching his cheek. 

“Don’t keep Kita waiting,” Kenma told him, turning his head.

Kuroo laughed and apologized to the beta, who shook his head telling them it was no problem. 

Shortly after, they commenced with the styling. Until now Kenma never paid attention to suits, believing the opportunity to wear one would never happen to him. Now, he was faced with the decision: single-breasted, or double-breasted? Then Kita asked if he wanted the vents in the center, or the sides. Kenma looked at Kuroo for help, only to see him staring blankly at the choices on the catalogue. 

The bell rang before Kita could ask for their decision. Stepping inside was a tall, dark-skinned man who wore a suit. The scent of cinnamon reached Kenma's nose. Kuroo seemed to recognize him, gawking in surprise, a hand over his open mouth.

"Aran? " 

Aran smiled, striding over and extending a hand. "Kuroo Tetsurou," he said, shaking Kuroo's hand firmly. “Long time no see.” 

He spoke with a bit of an accent; a smoothness to his syllables Kenma could only label as Western. 

“You look well,” Aran said. “Better than the last time I saw you, that’s for sure. And you’ve got yourself a mate!”

“Heh, and you’re not doing too shabby yourself. Seems like you’ve got a partner too,” he said, flipping over Aran’s hand to reveal a shiny gold band. “So who is it?” 

“That would be me,” said Kita, who gawked at him, then at Aran, then back at Kita, then Aran one last time. It was easier trying not to laugh at Kuroo than having his face express his shock at Aran and Kita. Who would have thought they would meet yet an alpha-beta couple? 

“Well! What a surprise, huh, Kenma?” Kuroo turned to him, a glimmer in his eye. “I’m taking you two are engaged?” 

“Yup! We’re getting married next year. Right now we’re in the planning stage, but we’ll be sure to send you invitations,” Aran said. “And you two?”

Kuroo hesitated before answering. “We’re taking our time with it,” he said, scratching his nape. “Y’know how it is.”

Aran gave a hum of consideration, then nodded subtly at Kenma. “Hey, don’t sweat it. Everyone has their own time.”

Kita raised his hand. “Speaking of time, shall we proceed with the styling of the suits?” 

Kenma averted Kuroo’s look.

“About that…” Kuroo rubbed his chin. 

Aran laughed, and the shop smelled like a cinnamon bun for a moment. He helped them pick out the suit styles. He compared his physique with Kuroo’s, saying a classic single-breasted suit with a vest would suit him, whereas a slimmer build like Kenma’s would benefit from a double-breasted suit. Once they had agreed on styles, Kuroo readied to pay but Aran stopped him. 

“It’s on the house.”

“You’re kidding,” Kuroo said. “At least a discount, man!” 

But Aran only laughed at him and patted his shoulder. “It’s the least I could do, Kuroo. You’re doing something good, at least let me cover your suits.”

Though Kuroo would try to argue against it, he would finally give up when Kita shook his head, refusing to even look at his credit card as he crossed his fingers into a small ‘x’.

In the end, Kuroo relented and swore he'll treat Aran and Kita to dinner or some other costly equivalent in the future. Aran laughed and Kita smiled, not just a twitch on his lip as his arm was hooked around Aran's.

As they left the store, Kenma thought Kuroo lived a wonderful life, having the capacity to promise repaying others in the future. He remembered the money being spent on him wasn't his, and neither was his comfort. It was only possible because Kuroo was his, contract or otherwise. 

"Kuro," Kenma tugged on his sleeve. "There must be something I do for you."

Kuroo stopped in his tracks. He looped his arm around Kenma's shoulder and pulled him close, resuming their walk down the street. "You're doing me wonders right now," he said. 

"Surely there's something more,"

Kuroo laughed, and Kenma felt a stab in his chest. "You're coming to a party with me, aren't you? Other than that, you don't have to do anything at all."

Unsatisfied, Kenma grunted and said nothing more. 

\---

Days passed far more quickly than Kenma liked. The dread of fulfilling his promise had ballooned to critical, palpitating levels once they returned to Inari Custom Tailoring for the final fitting and adjustments. Though he was told he and Kuroo looked great side by side, he barely enjoyed their reflections, all sharply dressed in the mirror. Instead he saw an omega masquerading in a wonderful suit he didn't deserve, for a party he was going to hate. Suddenly the cuffs felt like shackles to his wrists, the blazer a straightjacket, and the shiny pointed shoes purchased a week beforehand were crushing his feet. Breathing was a struggle like swimming through molasses and all of this Kenma concealed behind a stony face.

He wasn't going to tell Kuroo; not a single word. Kenma reasoned that Kuroo would likely tell him he doesn't have to do it, that if he was in such discomfort, it wasn't worth going through the whole thing just to make a five-second statement in an interview. Not when they already had suits made, and not after Kuroo had thanked him so much for helping him out. Kuroo's resigned, disappointed sigh, in his imagination, would crush Kenma more than any angry or spiteful reaction.

A week left before the party, Kenma found sleep difficult. He tossed and turned and Kuroo was none the wiser, having his ears shut by pillows. Kuroo slept peacefully while Kenma was painfully awake. His gentle snoring, which Kenma first found soothing, became a noise that reminded him of the slow, grinding halt time had become as panicked thoughts raced through his mind. 

Five days left before the party, their suits came in and Kenma couldn't even bring himself to look at them. They hung in Kuroo's room, and terrified Kenma at night, forming silhouettes of headless bodies in the dark. He tossed and turned until he decided to flip open the nightlights. Kuroo groaned in the pillows, patting around the space Kenma occupied. Funding Finding him gone, Kuroo lifted his head, squinting hard at the light. 

"Wuh…?" Kuroo groaned. 

Kenma swallowed hard. "I couldn't sleep."

Turning on his side, Kuroo spread his arms in invitation. Kenma took it, leaning into his chest and taking deep breaths of his calming pheromones. A rare opportunity it was, to face Kuroo's chest at night. Kenma smiled at this.

"Should stop playing games so late," Kuroo mumbled, kissing the top of Kenma's head. 

"It wasn't games."

"I know." His hand pat Kenma's back in reassurance. "I know, Kenma." 

Tension came undone in Kenma, and he sighed, wrapping his arms around Kuroo's chest in an embrace, his eyelids heavy, closing as sleep greeted him in a dark flash.

Inevitability did not subtract his worry. Even the realm of games weren’t free of parties. He had just begun the new Fire Emblem: Three Houses, and was happy to distract himself with strategies and student recruitment until the mention of the White Heron Cup, a party event within the game’s plot. After reading about it, he shut his eyes, exited the game, switching over to play Splatoon instead. 

“Yaku’s done a lot of press interviews,” Kuroo said, without prompt. “He’s an omega working with many alphas in the pheromone department, and as one of the head researchers too.” He had been busy the past few days himself, typing away on his laptop. They cut down the time they spent going outside and grabbing food, instead having been cooped up at home attending to their personal screens. Kenma, to think of something else than the party, and Kuroo to devote himself as the star of the party. 

Thankful for Kuroo’s ‘subtle’ nudge of advice, Kenma squeezed his arm before pulling out his phone. Whatever dread he felt towards messaging Yaku for the first time in months after they had first spoken was just another speck compared to the party. Desperate times called for desperate measures. 

Yaku picked up after a few rings. He sounded surprised and pleased at Kenma suddenly calling him. After listening to his explanation, Yaku shared his experiences. Yaku was one of the few omegas who managed to make some waves in the biochemistry sphere for his earlier research but even then he was often sidelined for his fellow alpha and beta researchers. Generally, they were treated as such by the press unless they were famous, had done something incredibly significant, or had something greatly terrible happened to them. The latter Kenma was familiar with, and always twisted his gut a little no matter how many times terrible things happening to omegas appeared in the news. 

_“If it’s attention, you don’t have to worry too much about it for the party. I’ll be there too, so I feel most of the questions would go to me. You’ll probably just get a recorded or written interview, so nothing to sweat over! Just make sure your voice is loud and clear, and your answers are direct.”_

That seemed easy enough. 

“Thank you, Yaku.” Kenma said. 

_“Hey, it’s no problem! Can’t wait to see you two there. Tell Kuroo he better not chicken out like the other times!”_

He’d ask Kuroo about those ‘other times’ over dinner, to which he answered: “What, an alpha can’t get nervous?” Which struck him as an odd reply, because he never intended it against Kuroo being an alpha. 

“You’re nervous, Kuro.” Kenma said. 

Kuroo clenched his jaw, then broke into a sigh. “I am. It’s like a slow-mo gut punch, to be honest.” he chuckled, strained. 

Without anything else to say, Kenma nodded. “...So am I.” 

Kuroo laughed, drinking from his glass. “Y’know, I’ve always wanted to be nervous in a super-important party with my boyfriend,” 

“That’s…” Kenma couldn’t help breaking into a grin, covering his mouth. “I’ll die in that party.”

Kuroo raised his chopsticks pointedly. “Correction. _We’ll_ die in that party. Together. How romantic!” 

“Terrific way to spend my Saturday night.” Kenma said. “Let’s just… Try not to die too soon.” 

“That’s the spirit,” Kuroo said, grinning. “We’ll keep ourselves alive.” 

Knowing they were both nervous, a comfortable silence settled over them as they finished dinner. Though the discomfort of anxiety returned to gnaw on him the next few days, it wasn’t that bad now that Kenma had somebody to be nervous with. 

When the morning of the party arrived, Kuroo woke him up with a loud yell that pierced through his ears. The sound of blankets being kicked off, pillows flung aside, and the string of muttered curses as Kuroo got up, his feet shuffling over the carpet as he paced to and fro.

Kenma cracked open an eye and felt around for his phone. “Kuro, it’s just 10AM…” he groaned, patting the warm space Kuroo occupied.

“You are a bad influence,” Kuroo said, throwing the curtains wide open. 

Sunlight kicked Kenma in the eyes and he grabbed a pillow, covering his face. His solace didn’t last long when Kuroo grabbed him by the ankles and dragged him out of bed, pulling him up by the arms by the edge. The sudden rush made him lightheaded, and he leaned into Kuroo’s chest for support, giving a whimper of protest. He heard a gulp, Kuroo’s, then a sigh. 

“We have an appointment at the salon in an hour. Freshen up, we’re leaving in thirty minutes.” 

Kenma groaned, nodding. 

\---

If miracle workers existed, they worked in salons. 

Nothing short of a magic happened as Kuroo’s hair was transformed, through an intensive process of hair treatments, conditioners, and wax, from a bedhead mess into a suave, swept-back style Kenma couldn’t simply ignore. He looked sharper, more mature with his hazel eyes downcast as he checked his watch. But most importantly: the other side of Kuroo’s face had finally been revealed, and each time Kenma saw it he took a double-take, staring at Kuroo like he had sprouted a new head.

“I must be so hot to you right now,” Kuroo looked up at him and snickered, smoothing his hair back. The hairdresser practically hissed at him, and he winked back in apology. 

“It’s weird,” Kenma admitted. “It’s not bad but…” 

“Ah,” Kuroo said, placing a hand over his right eye. “I forgot babies have low facial recognition skills. Does this help you?” 

“...It’s actually really terrible, I’m gagging right now.” Kenma lied. Kuroo looked good great. Facing him, Kenma’s breath was caught in his throat, and looking away was a tempting choice. After seeing it as nothing short of a mess the past few months, to have it salvaged into a working hairstyle was doing _things_ to Kenma’s imagination. He wasn’t even in a suit yet. And if he were to wear glasses? Kenma would be annihilated. 

“You’re blushing right now.” 

His hand flew to his face. The other to push Kuroo’s ugly smirk away. “You shut it.” 

Triumphantly grinning, Kuroo returned to reading the magazine on his lap, humming a tune. 

“Shall I work on your partner now, sir?” Another hairdresser asked. 

Kenma flinched and shot Kuroo a look he didn’t receive, as he talked to the hairdresser.

“Yeah, just hand him a style mag and we’ll get back to you on that,” he smiled. Kenma could tell the hairdresser got flustered from that, as he lost his composure, clumsily handing Kenma a shiny magazine marked with an omega symbol in the upper corner before walking away in a hurry. 

After reveling in his boyfriend’s effect on others (quietly, and without showing it on his face), Kenma flipped through the pages, noting how most of the styles were all elegant and involved something elaborate like braids being twisted into patterns, or required a fistful of bobby pins to keep in place. A lot of hassle just for an event that’ll only last a night. 

“Oh my god,” Kuroo said, having scooted the salon chair over to get close. “It’s like they’re planning to weave baskets on someone’s head with all that,” he gestured vaguely at the air. 

Kenma chuckled, lifting the magazine so he could see. “This looks like a cabbage,” he said. 

They poked fun at the hairstyles for a while, but after that Kenma admitted he didn’t know what to pick. Kuroo stroked the back of his head, playing with the strands, tickling his scalp. 

“Something simple would suit you,” he said, a lock looped around his finger. “What more can you add to someone already so perfect? It’d just be overkill.” 

Kenma flushed, swatting his hand away. “That was sickening,” 

“You love it,” Kuroo grinned, ruffling Kenma’s hair. “Buuuut,” he pointed at a style in the lower corner of the page, an updo held together by a bow. “I think this would really suit you.” 

“If you say so,” Kenma mumbled, lowering his head, face burning. 

Deliberately, Kuroo leaned close so that his breath tickled Kenma’s ear. “Did you want a haircut? Or re-dye your hair?” 

_I want you,_ Kenma thought as he shook his head, finishing the thought: _to stop whispering in my ear._ “The length and color are fine.” 

They did short work of Kenma’s new hairstyle. The hairdressers said his hair was smooth and easy to work with, though he should think of re-dyeing it soon. After a few more spritzes of hairspray, the two were compared in the mirrors, and told they looked so good together. Kenma’s stomach fluttered, and Kuroo put a hand on his shoulder.

“Well, what do you know? We look hot.” 

“They did a real great job fixing you, Kuro.” 

“Oh, like you didn’t need any fixing yourself?” Kuroo pinched his nose.

“You said I was perfect,” Kenma grimaced, scrunching his nose free. 

Kuroo sighed, sounding satisfied. “The most perfect guy in the world.” 

Groomed, they went home (taking great care not to move their hair around too much) to wear their suits. In their hurry they neglected to take separate rooms. 

“Need help?” Kuroo asked, shirtless and with his slacks unbelted. The short hairs past his navel led to the garters of his underwear, black. 

Kenma’s gaze was determinedly glued to his wrist, struggling to button his cuff with a single hand. “I’m fine,” he muttered, suddenly aware of his bare chest, the dress shirt halfway unbuttoned because he got lazy.

“Okay,” Kuroo said, watching Kenma fail to button his cuff with a smirk. Kenma presented his wrist begrudgingly, and Kuroo buttoned it without a problem. 

“What ever will you do without me?” Kuroo asked, snickering. 

Kenma rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Die, probably.” 

“Hey…” 

Kenma grabbed Kuroo’s zipper with his free hand, and tugged all the way up. “You should really get dressed properly, Kuro. Whatever will you do without me?” 

Kuroo swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “I dunno, so what should I do with you here now?” 

He held his breath. For a split second, he smelled an intense chocolate. Kuroo wasn’t using his medicine. “I,” 

Lips slammed into his, hard and greedy, sucking, while a hand snaked up the small of his back, clutching him to Kuroo’s body tightly. His hot tongue brushed Kenma’s mouth and he let him in, easily, so easily taken in by his kisses, his wandering hands, and the thrum of their heartbeats pounding against their chests. Utterly consumed by Kuroo, Kenma allowed him to do as he pleased up until vibrations from Kuroo’s back pocket interrupted their little escapade. 

Kuroo, with a guttural noise alike a snarl, tore his lips away from Kenma’s. The grip on his shoulder was tight, and Kenma could hear every pulse, every frustrated huff of his breath, and the hardness pressed against his abdomen. All of a sudden Kenma’s throat dried up, and he gulped, his fingers twitching for the zipper he had just zipped earlier. 

“Yaku,” Kuroo grunted at the phone. “I _will_ kill you if this isn’t important.” He paused for Yaku’s reply, his face softening from displeasure to something stern, implacable. 

It sent shivers down Kenma’s spine. For a second, Kuroo was a stranger.

“Gotcha. We’ll be there in the next hour or so. Can’t have the star of the party being late after all,” he muttered. “Yeah, yeah, I got my speech ready… See ya.” He hung up with a heavy sigh, leaning over into Kenma, breathing in and out. The sore, gut-wrenching desire Kenma felt to know what it was he and Yaku talked about was pushed down as he rubbed his hands over Kuroo’s back, in small, rhythmic circles. The moment passed with them in a vague but warm embrace until Kuroo straightened up, the casual grin on his face returned. 

He tugged on Kenma’s collar, straightening out a crease. “Looks like I messed you up a little,” 

“It’s your fault, yes.” Kenma’s lips still tingled. 

“Oh I’d take responsibility if we had the time,” he smirked suggestively. “But, we’ve got a party to get to.” 

“...Don’t worry, Kuro.” Kenma found himself saying. “We’re still going home after the party.” 

From the way he and Kuroo caught each other’s look, Kenma already wanted the party over with so they can finish what had been started. 

\---

Whatever sexual tension he felt before the party had dissipated into the bright, terribly ostentatious splendor of the hotel’s conference hall, robbing Kenma of anything to look forward to. What replaced it was the gnawing dread and anxiety of being surrounded by people, many people; people who were taller, more beautiful, more powerful, more wealthy. It was terrifyingly resplendent to Kenma, who had never attended anything The scents of alphas and omegas mingled in the air, creating a debilitating aroma leaving him feeling helpless despite his tight grip on Kuroo’s hand. He looked upset; with his stony face and hard glare at those who passed in front of them. It reminded Kenma of that time in the stadium, where the crowd parted once the scent of chocolate hit their nostrils, only this time people nodded and regarded Kuroo with respect, esteem, whereas probing looks of curiosity were directed at Kenma. Kenma did his best to keep up with Kuroo’s strides, struggling to keep his eyes from wandering. 

The crowds. The decor. The smiles. The stares. Bile threatened to creep up his throat and he held Kuroo’s hand tighter. Whatever less populated corner of the venue they went, a crowd flocked along, eager to talk to the scientist for his new invention. Too polite to wave them off, Kuroo offered them polite smiles and cordial thanks, but Kenma could feel his eagerness to leave. His grip on Kenma’s hand grew tighter, and as convincing as his smile looked to everyone else, the edges of his lips dug hard into his cheeks as he forced them. And yet, the scent of his pheromones remained overpowering, and Kenma was only glad he was used to them. Even the beta waiters, their uniforms prim and faces held high in formalities couldn’t help but turn their heads as Kuroo walked past. 

Yaku was the lifesaver. He approached, just as Kuroo’s expression was at the verge of snapping, and at the sight of him it melted into relief. Kenma was nudged with a hand on his shoulder towards Yaku, a sincere smile on his face telling him they’d be best off in the ‘holding area.’ As Yaku ushered Kenma away, he wanted to say no; despite his reservations with people, it hurt something in his chest to leave him alone to deal with all those fake smiles and never-ending questions, without an equally nervous hand to hold. 

“Man, there he goes again,” Yaku said, scratching his head. “Always wanting to take on the crowd.”

“Trying to do everything by himself.” Kenma mumbled.

And Yaku smiled as if grateful Kenma understood, patting his back. “You two are a good match. So how’ve you been?” He asked, chipper. 

They talked for a while, taking their time standing outside the hallway. No alpha walking past bothered them; Kenma smelled too much of Kuroo, and Yaku of that antiseptic. Yaku had been doing great. Because of Kuroo’s break, he had taken over the lab operations, which was remarkable for an omega. He also commented on how Kenma looked much better than when they had first met. 

“You were so scrawny!” He laughed, throwing his head back. “I was afraid that idiot wasn’t feeding you properly!” 

“I’ve been getting that a lot recently…” He said, a smile forming on his lips. Kenma liked Yaku’s company. Aside from Shouyou, he didn’t talk to other omegas. He was different; driven, and knew when to put his foot down or through the door. 

Though Kenma wanted to continue, Yaku had to get back to the main hall. He brought Kenma to the holding area, a separate room from the main hall, where the omegas (and some, accompanied with betas) who weren’t as… ‘important’ as the others who had stayed. Yaku, unfortunately, wasn’t going to be there to chat with him, but he gave Kenma a reassuring pat on the back. He told Kenma he’d be fine before turning to leave. 

Nervous, Kenma entered, with his head held low. From the edges of his vision he saw other omegas in suits and form-fitting dresses. Jewelry hung from their ears and wrapped their necks, whereas Kenma’s suddenly felt very bare. He was grateful for the coil of hair around his nape to hide the unmarked skin. Even so, he felt bare; like the omegas talking amongst each other, their eyes darting to Kenma and back, his appearance under their scrutiny: his plainness, and the shocking contrast of the brown-blonde hair against the black suit. His heart beat against his throat, and miserably, he swallowed, but the feeling persisted. 

Spotting an unoccupied corner, Kenma gladly took refuge there. It was a seat close to a few potted plants, hopefully obscuring him from others. He sat there, taking out his phone for games, or anything to ease and distract him from his situation. Focus on the positives, he told himself. At least he’s not outside with the crowd, and with all the cameras. A live feed was playing on a TV display up on the wall. The camera panned over the crowd, with a commentator mentioning names, likely important people in the biochemist industry, or some other corporate boss, investors and the like. As the camera rolled, more omegas entered the holding room, telling Kenma the main event was about to begin. For a brief moment the camera cut to Yaku, before switching to Kuroo, engaged in a lively conversation with Yaku. 

If he looked good before they had entered the party, on camera Kuroo looked like he had come out of a movie set. His hair was perfectly tousled, his suit hugging his form, emphasizing the broadness of his shoulders leading down to his trim waist. The vest did him wonders. Kenma thanked Kita in his head, the blessing of his craftsmanship. Catching sight of the camera, Kuroo winked, a lopsided smile on his face before continuing on with Yaku. The camera switched to someone else, someone Kenma didn't care about as his heart pounded against his chest.

The camera pans again, back to Kuroo standing behind a podium, his hand releasing his tie from having adjusted it for the camera. He flashed a lopsided smile; coy like he was about to sell you in on something, and the hall burst into polite applause. 

“Oh,” 

One of the nearby omegas gasped. “This one looks _good._ ”

“Do you think he’s mated?” 

Strange satisfaction welled up in Kenma’s chest, crashing to the pit of his stomach as the same, nipping jealousy settled in his throat. He swallowed hard, gripping his phone. The other omegas fell into a hush as Kuroo spoke. Distracted by his simmering jealousy, Kenma caught only bits and pieces from his introduction. His name, alma mater, something about taking over the work of some guy. Then he moved on to introduce the audience to some members of his research team, starting with Yaku who beamed at the cameras and a calm-looking guy with a buzzcut who nodded and smiled. Their names and history faded into the background as the chatter from the other omegas picked up again. What flattery they gave to Kuroo afflicted Kenma with irritation as he only wanted to focus on Kuroo, so dutifully explaining his research with bars and graphs and a lot of complicated terminology he wanted to understand, but the only thing he heard was how “smart” and “talented” Kuroo was. 

He knew that already, and if they would kindly stop demonstrating their thirst, maybe Kuroo could demonstrate his talents. They didn’t seem the slightest bit concerned he was creating a working medicine that could lower alphas’ aggression,but rather how they would like to have an alpha like Kuroo. 

Newsflash, he’s taken. 

Kenma held his tongue, and shifted closer to see the screen.

Another hush fell over the holding room as the camera focused on a projection featuring the Miya twins.

_“We began the trials 6 months ago, administering the treatment with Miya Osamu whereas Miya Atsumu was the control variable. Shortly after, they held an exhibition game against the French Roosters, 28 - 26, Ryujin Nippon winning. Recorded footage of the match demonstrated Miya Osamu’s remarkable calmness as the match went on. He later reported being ‘unaffected’ by the pheromones the other alphas exuded, and according to the team consensus, he did not pick a fight with his brother Miya Atsumu for the duration of the match…”_

The audience chuckled, and Kuroo waited for it to pass with a smile on his face.

_“...nor had he showed signs of extreme aggression during practices with his team. Player Ushijima Wakatoshi remarked, ‘outside of the usual brotherly squabbles, Osamu was calmer than ever. Practice was interrupted far less, and those small arguments-- if any-- were easily or immediately resolved with a stern word from the coach.”_

Kuroo went on, entering another segment with graphs and figures representing their research data and other analysis. The chatter amongst the omegas had faded into a dull buzz as most of them now were tuned to the screen. Kuroo went on, talking for something close to half an hour but he retained that picture-perfect smile on his face while explaining the details of the medicine, the treatment involved, and other details only biochemists or others in the field would appreciate. He even dropped jokes that left most of the omegas in the room (including himself) stunned over how it could have possibly been perceived as hilarious, and yet he got a good laugh from the audience each time. 

After finishing his explanations, he invited the press for questions, also reminding them to ask his co-researchers questions. Hands and press cards were raised immediately. 

_“Can we have that lady with the red blazer?”_ Kuroo smiled, gesturing at a reporter near the front. 

_“Thank you, Mr. Kuroo! My name is Yui Michimiya from SCI. You mentioned earlier the intended recipients for the treatment were alphas in the sports industry. Could you tell us why the sports industry, specifically?”_

_“I’ve been playing sports for most of my life. Most alphas play a sport or two, and the fact of the matter is that sports in general requires camaraderie among its players. Whether it’s a one-on-one sport, or a team sport, it’s important to maintain that. When it comes to alphas, that’s a difficult matter because of our pheromones, which could get in the way when tensions rise.”_

_“But aren’t the high-intensity matches part of the appeal in alpha sports?”_ Another reporter asked.

_“I’m not denying that I love that high-intensity pace myself. But there’s a difference between getting into the game and getting physical with the other team. Undertaking our treatment will not-- I repeat-- not get in the way of strength, speed, focus, or adrenaline. What it aims is to significantly reduce the output of alpha pheromones triggered by high-intensity situations such as sports.”_

The reporter thanked Kuroo, and took his seat. Kuroo pointed at another reporter. Kenma recognized the tag hanging from his neck from Omega News Broadcasting.

_“My name is Watari from ONB! I have a question for Mr. Yaku. What are your opinions on the medicine?”_

Yaku stepped forward, replaced Kuroo, smiling confidently at the camera. In the second he took to compose himself, Kenma and all the other omegas in the holding room held their breath. They all had an inkling of the answer. Yaku knew the omegas who were watching knew when his smile softened for a fraction of a moment. 

_“We’ve put a lot of hard work and effort into perfecting this medicine, so I have to say I am nothing but incredibly proud of it. I believe it will have good results among athletes, and those who choose to undergo treatment. That is all.”_

Though simple, Yaku’s words meant a lot to the omegas, who murmured hopes of having more peace in their lives if the treatment hit off. Suddenly Kenma didn’t mind their chatter because he agreed; he was already living the life where an alpha was taking the medicine. 

“Kozume?”

A lead ball plummeted in Kenma’s stomach. He made a mistake turning his head to look.

“You dyed your hair!” A guy with curly brown hair said. Kenma barely recognized him from all the makeup and accessories, and he had long forgotten the names of anyone from that time, but something about the mole on the guy’s chin brought him back to high school. 

“U-um…” Kenma froze in his chair, ransacking his head for any names. 

“It’s me, Hayato! From Year 2 Class 3? Oh my god, you totally don’t remember!” Hayato playfully smacked his shoulder and Kenma flinched. Hayato was one of his classmates from high school. One of the more popular and sociable types, who was friends with practically everyone. Kenma wouldn’t call him a ‘friend’ though. Not when he knew Hayato participated in gossip against him before. 

“I didn’t think I’d find you here! Who would have thought you of all omegas would end up just like us, huh?” Hayato smiled, taking a seat beside him.

‘Like us,’ Hayato said, and Kenma knew what he meant. There was no way omegas ‘like us’ could afford the sparkling necklaces and shiny gold bracelets that adorned him. Not unless they were born wealthy, in which case they wouldn’t have been relegated to a holding room. 

“Um, I’m not.” Kenma spoke up. “I’m not… like you.” 

Hayato blinked at him, a moment perplexed, before breaking into a grin. “Aw! That’s cute!” He draped his arm around Kenma, and he tensed his body, fighting back the urge to wave his arm off. “I’m sure you think that, but Kenma, there’s a reason you’re in the holding room. Plus,” he tapped the back of his neck, mouthing ‘bite-less.’ 

Kenma’s bare neck burned. His chest bubbled with annoyance and he gripped his fist, keeping it beneath a poker-faced facade as shook his head. “I'm here by choice.” 

“Really.” Hayato crossed his arms, a brow raised. “Well aren’t you well-trained! I mean, weren’t you one of the guys in class who _didn’t_ want to be with alphas? Look where that’s gotten you!” He laughed. “You’re such a hypocrite, Kozume.” His expression displayed the glee he took in teasing Kenma. 

It stung like he was whipped. He grit his teeth and swallowed hard. “I’m not. I…” 

“Oh finally, it’s finished.” Hayato stood up, checking a golden wristwatch. The interview had concluded, and the TV displayed Kuroo, Yaku, and Kai waving to the cameras as they exited the stage. 

“Before you get back to your alpha, if they’re like, in the pharmaceutical industry, hit me up. It’d be great for me to tip my client off about possible partners, ‘kay?” Hayato’s perfectly friendly, perfectly fake smile returned. “I’m in room 3601.” 

“I’m going home.” Kenma said, standing up to leave. He had his phone clenched tightly in his pocket. As he turned around, he heard Hayato tell him one last thing.

“They’re alphas, Kenma. You’re being used, and it’s just how they are. No pill can change that.”

Try as he might to prevent it, the words had taken root in Kenma’s head. Weaving past the other omegas, Kenma’s chest was gripped hard by a panic. Breathing was shallow, difficult, and he retreated to the sides of the corridor, allowing the groups of omegas to pass. He didn’t see Hayato, thank god, nor any signs of his curly head. Once alone, Kenma texted Kuroo. 

Kenma: _Kuro, lets go home_

The response took a few minutes.

Kuro: _Thirty minutes._  
_Come back to the main hall._

Cursing to himself, Kenma trudged back to the main hall, met by Kuroo and another, dark-haired man who carried a tape recorder. 

Ah, the interview. His chest tightened again.

“Kenma,” Kuroo touched his shoulder.However relaxing his pheromones were to Kenma, Kuroo’s touch on his shoulder was heavier than he liked. “This is Kunimi from uh…” 

“ONN.” Kunimi answered. Kunimi was a beta, marked on the press pass hanging from his neck. “I’ve been told Mr. Kuroo allowed you for an interview.”

Kuroo didn’t allow him, Kenma thought. Kuroo _begged_ him to come to this stupid party to answer some stupid questions. But he had gotten so tired at this point, he had no drive to argue or say anything against it. “Yes.” 

“Okay.” Kunimi nodded, lifting the recorded to Kenma’s chest. His eyes were drooping and the eyebags underneath indicated just how much this Kunimi person either didn’t care, or wanted to go home. Possibly both. The same went for Kenma, and he felt they both wanted to get this over with. Kunimi pressed a button as he read the questions from his phone.

“As Mr. Kuroo’s partner, what are your opinions on the treatment?” 

“I think it’s a good thing.” Kenma said. Kunimi stared, urging him to continue. “K-Kuro’s really worked hard on it, and I trust him. We saw the exhibition match a while back, and I saw the comparison between the Miya twins’ normal play, and post-treatment play.”

“And what about its effect on your relationship? If Mr. Kuroo took the treatment, hypothetically.” 

Kenma couldn’t resist a soft chuckle. “I don’t think much would change between how we are now, and how he would be after treatment. Hypothetically.”

“He’s very calm for an alpha, then?” Kunimi asked, with a tilt of his head. He had gone off-script, no longer looking at the screen.

“...Yes.” Kenma said. Kuroo’s hand twitched on his shoulder. “We are both mellow people, in a way.”

“Yes, you two are very compatible.” Glancing at his phone, Kunimi returned to the list of questions. What followed after was a series of generic questions, mostly pertaining to the serum and its impact on omegas, and what Kenma couldn’t answer, Kuroo swooped in to finish. It soon became a conversation between them, with Kunimi occasionally exchanging which arm he used to hold up the recorder. After that he looked more weary and impatient than anyone else and curtly thanked them for the generous amount of answers they had given him. Once he had left, Kenma exhaled deeply, leaning into Kuroo’s side. 

“That tired me out.” He said. “Can we go now?” 

Kuroo laughed, raising a hand to ruffle his head but stopping halfway considering Kenma’s hair. “Hell yeah, I’m pooped.” He sighed, pulling Kenma closer to him. “Let’s get outta here.”

\---  
The trip back to the lobby was more of a pain than they had expected. He saw it as an escort mission where encounters with people meant Kuroo had to pause and smile and greet them while Kenma focused on shrinking himself as much as possible, avoiding damage. There came times where Kuroo had to introduce him to some others, but for the most part they ignored the omega hiding behind the alpha. Kenma wasn’t significant enough to bother with, and he preferred it that way.

However with each mission comes a boss. Or what Kenma considered a boss. While underground in the parking lot, looking for the car, the overwhelming scent of the sea crashed into Kenma like a wave. He held onto Kuroo’s sleeve, tensing in place. Quick to react, Kuroo put himself in between, shielding him from the dark olive-haired alpha. Kenma’s first impression of his face was that of a snake’s. The stranger’s eyes were slanted, almost slits, the condescending smile on his face lined with sharp teeth; his tall, slender frame relaxed but poised as if he could strike at any moment. 

The smell of chocolate turned bitter as if burnt, and Kenma took a step back from Kuroo. He couldn’t see his expression from behind, but from the way his shoulders were tensed, and how rigid his pose turned, it wasn’t pleasant. 

“Well, well, well! If it isn’t the star of the show.” 

“Nice to meet you too, _Daishou._ ”

The silence between the two hung heavy in the air like smog. Kenma could barely stand it as the two were engaged in a fight to out-scent each other. He clamped his hand over his nose. As the harsh odors clashed and intensified, it caused him to flinch. 

“Looks like you’ve got a little someone there. And here I thought you only did alphas, man!”

“Shut up, Daishou.” Kuroo’s tone was harsh, almost commanding. As if he didn’t want Kenma to hear that.

Daishou didn’t falter. “What, not even an introduction?” Purposefully crossing Kuroo’s space, he extended a hand to Kenma. “Daishou Suguru, Kuroo’s _bestest_ friend. He and I go way back.” 

Kenma didn’t take his hand. Not that he could have, when Kuroo swatted it away with a loud smack. 

“Don’t touch him.” He snarled.

“What are you going to do about it, hit me?” Daishou shrugged his shoulders. “Go ahead, Kuroo. I’ll even let you punch me here again.” He pointed to his cheek. “Remember, Kuroo?”

Kuroo struggled to keep his composure. Kenma grabbed his clenched fist, and held it close. 

“Kuro.”

Kuroo’s face was marred with anger, darkened, his eyes intensely heated, and his face fixed into a scowl. Yanking his fist from Kenma’s grasp, Kuroo covered his face, taking deep breaths until he was calm. Still angry; the heat from his anger radiated off his body, but calm. 

“What are you doing here, Daishou?” He asked. 

Daishou frowned, like Kuroo’s calmness disappointed him. “Just dropped by to check on the hottest new treatment hitting the news. I’m a biochemist too, I’m sure you haven’t forgotten.”

“I haven’t. Nekomata wanted to contact you.”

Daishou scoffed. “No need. I’ve got other things to do. _Other_ research to study.” He began walking towards them, and Kuroo shielded Kenma again. As he passed by, he stopped for a second, turning to Kuroo to say: “Don’t you dare think anything’s changed with your little experiment. It was still your fault.” 

\---

The ride home was tense and suffocating, the car filled with the burnt-smelling scent and the sound of Kuroo breathing deeply. Kenma sat on the front seat in silence, staring at the road ahead. Eventually Kuroo parked near a local convenience store. He gripped the wheel tightly, his knuckles white, teeth clenched, and eyes boring a hole in the wall of posters outside with the intensity of his look. 

Then, he collapsed against the seat with a loud and exhausted sigh. 

The burnt smell diminished almost immediately, and Kenma could suddenly exhale too. 

“What a fucking riot, huh?” Kuroo smiled. A tired smile. 

“No kidding.” Kenma replied. “Do you… Want to talk about it?” 

Kuroo took his sweet time contemplating the offer. After what seemed like an eternity, with Kenma’s general sense of awkwardness creeping up his back as Kuroo sat there staring at the wheel, he agreed. 

“After some drinks, first.” 

Kenma wished the overworked beta working the cashier had some fun at the very least, while ringing up change for the alpha and omega who left the store with plastic bags filled with random booze and snacks, in bespoke suits and styled hair at 11:52 in the evening. 

They brought the drinks to Kuroo’s room, slipping off their blazers gently (whereas they just kicked off their shoes by the foyer), undoing their ties, and unbuttoning the first few buttons of their dress shirts. Haphazardly they tossed their belts aside, while Kenma let his pants fall, hopping onto the bed with just the shirt and boxers. Kuroo did the opposite, discarding the shirt and remaining in his pants. 

Then they drank. Most of what they had bought was beer, with some other drinks Kenma wasn’t familiar with. They came in colored bottles with some sort of other flavor, and nothing above 10%. They wanted the honesty from tipsiness, not blackout-drunkenness. It didn’t take them very long; they both hadn’t eaten much aside from the snacks. Kuroo’s face, neck, and some parts of his chest were vibrantly red while Kenma’s whole body was warm. Before he could finish a can of… blueberry something, Kuroo reached over and stole the bottle from his lips, emptying the contents in a few gulps. 

“Hey…”

“I think I’m ready now.” Kuroo said.

“Then tell me your insecurities.”  
“Right for the jugular…” 

“And… about Daishou. He was saying things, and--- and I couldn’t understand.” 

“You pick up too many things, Kenma. You should really quit that.” 

“I can’t help it. It’s how I am.” 

Kuroo chuckled. “I like you.” He said, stroking Kenma’s arm. 

Kenma slapped his wrist. Not that he didn’t enjoy it, but he didn’t want to be sidelined again. “Talk.” 

“Okay, okay~” He laughed. He slipped his fingers between Kenma’s, holding them tenderly. His hand is warm. 

Kuroo started off with his university. When he was in Kamigawa, he played as a middle blocker for the team. That much, Kenma knew. 

“Well, back when I was uh…” He twirled his finger, as if manually rewinding his memory, “in my fourth year, we got into some crap. Shitty crap. Real bullshitty-crap.” 

“Uh-huh.”

“Y’know how in alpha sports-- nah actually, just alphas in general, those motherfuckers always looove getting into fights? If something won’t go their way they can usually just--” he punched at the air with his free hand, “do that about it. So there. We got into a fight.”

He hesitated, then drew in a breath. “Sometime during nationals, around the semi-finals, we hit it baaad with the other team. Super baaad. Daishou was there, too. They were our rivals, our most- _hated_ rivals.”

Kenma winced as Kuroo gripped his hand hard. He sighed once it was released.

“There was a pretty big spat on the court. It stopped being about playing the game and winning the points, it… Maybe it just wasn’t about volleyball at all. We just wanted to beat them in any way. And I… I didn’t help at all.” His voice shook, sounding choked. “In fact I fed fuel to the flames. I provoked the other team. Then they lost. Lost the game, lost their cool.” He chuckled bitterly. “A fight started during lineups, and we were all still fired up so…” He shook his head and Kenma could imagine all the punching and kicking and mayhem. He’d seen alphas fight before; in games, in movies, and in public. 

“That’s not the end, though. After we had a victory party, Bo,Oika’a, and I split off on our own, and while crossing through an alley-- shortcuts, y’know? A bunch of guys with masks surrounded us and started _beating_ us. Thing is, masks can’t hide scents.” He laughed. “Masks can’t hide scents, Kenma. We fought hard, but it was three-to-five. They fucked us up pretty badly. And Oika’a…” He shook his head, grinning. “He had it the worst. They knew where to hit, and they banged up his knee so hard volleyball’s just a pipe dream for him now.” Kuroo’s pained, forced chuckle crushed Kenma. “Aaaand it was all my fault. The end.” 

Sincerely, he wished he could say something else. “I’m sorry.” Was all Kenma had to say. Kuroo’s bitter smile after all that stabbed his chest. “Thank you for telling me. It must have been painful.” 

Kuroo looked surprised. “I… I can take it. It’s fine--- I’m fine. Really.” 

Kenma touched his face. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Kenma, I-I’m the most honest guy in the world.” His voice shook. 

“Kuro, don’t lie to me. Please.” Kenma pleaded, brushing the tear that rolled down his cheek. He pulled Kuroo into his chest. At first his body was stiff, then it relaxed into him, Kuroo inhaling and exhaling shakily. He brushed the back of Kuroo’s head; rubbed slow circles on his back, and stayed quiet. 

It was strange for an alpha to cry. 

But Kuroo wasn’t just an alpha, he was… Kuroo. He had every right to, and Kenma was going to support him, even if it was just like this. What bothered him was how scentless they were in misery. When Kuroo settled down, he pulled away, his eyes all puffy and red, chuckling to himself. 

“I’m such a loser. Crying, an’ stuff.” He sniffed. 

“You are.” Kenma agreed. “But you’re my loser, I guess.”

The way Kuroo stared at him was like he had just fallen in love all over again. Kenma turned away, covering his flustered face. “S-stop looking at me like that…”

Locking his arms around Kenma, Kuroo smiled at him. His eyelashes were still wet and the lids of his eyes were still red and puffed, but he was happy, Kenma could tell because the hug smelled distinctly like Christmas; all wrapped up in bed with a cup of hot chocolate. Gently, Kuroo lifted his chin and Kenma accepted, guided into a kiss. The touch lasted only a second before Kenma pulled him down by the neck, sucking and biting his lower lip. 

Kuroo kissed with greater enthusiasm, pulling Kenma closer by his waist and having those large hands of his roam his sides. His fingertips left trails of goosebump running through Kenma’s body. Shivers of pleasure and excitement overcame him, an intense warmth, rich scents--- theirs, mingling, intertwining, as they found once more where they were most tender, most sensitive, with their fingertips and lips. Kuroo sucking and licking up his jaw; Kenma’s barely-stifled breathing against his ear. He had Kuroo by the belt hoops, fumbling with the button and his zipper. At the same time Kuroo tugged at his dress shirt, with mounting urgency. They shared a look, then a brief chuckle as they released each other, and decided that Kenma’s fingers were better for his own buttons, and Kuroo’s legs were better at kicking off his own pants. Sufficiently unclothed, Kenma took Kuroo by surprise when he pushed him down onto the bed and straddled his hips. 

“Feisty. I like it.” Kuroo snickered. His hands occupied the curve of Kenma’s waist. His fingers teased to slip past Kenma’s waistband.

“You just like me.” Kenma said, leaning over to place both hands by Kuroo’s head. With his head tipped over, the fuzzy, swirling sensation gathering in his forehead made itself apparent. Thank you, liquid confidence.

“I do. I like you so much.” He breathed. “I want to ask you a favor.” 

“Not again…” He groaned. “Go on.”

“Thank you, O merciful one,” Kuroo smiled, brushing Kenma’s bottom lip with his thumb. For some odd reason, he averted his eyes and his smile vanished. Kenma’s anticipation rose as Kuroo took a deep breath, exhaled, and glanced up at him, his eyes glittering with determination. 

“Can I suck you off?” 

The request came like a blow to the head which sent Kenma laughing into the crook of Kuroo’s shoulder. “Oh my god…” He moaned. “Why are you like this?” 

“What? What’s wrong with it? I just… consent matters, y’know?” 

“You’re just… so weird. One moment you're crying because of your past and the next moment you're blushing because you want to suck it."

Kuroo's red face only deepened in color. He struggled to form words, ending up with broken syllables and noises, amusing Kenma to no end. After his stuttering, he sighed. “Listen, I’ve never sucked off an omega before.”

“I don’t believe that.” Kenma said. “Surely you have. You’re an alpha.”

“I used to only do alphas.” He admitted after a while. 

Kenma pulled away in disbelief. “So why now?” He asked. And what would have been the difference?

“Preferences change. And... liking you wasn’t part of my plan. I just wanted to share pheromones at first. Then our fake-dating got a little bit too real.” He chuckled sheepishly. “I tried my best not to, but you’re just so cute I---”

“Okay, shut it.” Kenma hissed, clapping his mouth over Kuroo’s lips. He felt embarrassed hearing that; likely his face matched Kuroo’s: red, red, red. It was his turn to fumble over his words. “You can, um… Yes. I mean.” 

He thought it was an equal exchange. Kenma had never been sucked off, and Kuroo had never sucked off an omega before. Kuroo was on a roll here, steadily taking all of his firsts. 

Grinning underneath his palm, Kuroo rose from the bed, easily toppling Kenma over, had it not been for the hand catching his back. Gently, he laid Kenma over the sheets, reversing their positions. Kenma held his breath as Kuroo’s penetrating gaze swept over his body. To be examined so closely, so intimately, he couldn’t stifle the twitch of his cock now straining underneath his boxers. Kuroo retained his smile even has he uncovered his face and guided Kenma’s hand to the omega’s own cock, encouraging him to stroke himself erect. Kenma moaned, throwing his head back as Kuroo’s hand was large and heavy against his. The increased pressure hardened his cock in seconds. 

Satisfied, Kuroo lifted Kenma’s legs and slipped his boxers off with ease. Kenma’s hand covered his crotch from the rush of being suddenly exposed. So much for liquid confidence, when his face was burning from embarrassment. With much ease, Kuroo takes both his wrists in a single hand, while the other spread his thighs. With his cock standing free, his face burned with more embarrassment and Kenma tugged uselessly to free his wrists, but his strength faltered when Kuroo stroked his inner thighs. His fingertips were kneading the soft flesh, and Kenma’s sensitive skin was quickly left with pink marks. A drop of precum traveled down the length of his shaft. He moved his hips, begging for his cock to be touched. Kuroo’s hands came too close to his crotch but relentlessly teased the area around it instead. 

“Kuro…” Kenma breathed. He expected some sort of teasing remark but was met with silence. 

Kuroo looked serious. He lowered his head to kiss his thigh instead of sucking him off and Kenma almost groaned in frustration. Kuroo sucked and licked him all over except where he most needed it, breathing in deeply the smell of his skin and exhaling like he was satisfied.

“Please…!” Kenma pleaded softly. 

Without warning Kuroo bit his thigh, eliciting a yelp from Kenma. The brief flash of pain was soothed immediately as Kuroo licked the sore spot. Then, switching from his thigh to his cock, Kuroo lapped at the tip and Kenma gasped as stars filled his vision. He arched his back, closing his legs on Kuroo’s head. His bound arms pushed against the top of his disastrous hair, attempting to push him away. 

He was going to cum if Kuroo wouldn’t stop soon.

"W-wait!" Kenma gasped, squeezing his thighs together from the pleasure. He curled his toes, gripping Kuroo's head, pushing once more.

Kuroo growled, forcing one thigh down with his hand while gripping Kenma’s wrist hard. He whined, bending to the warning. Whatever noise he could make to make him slow down was caught in his throat as his Kuroo's mouth engulfed his cock. Kuroo formed a ring with his lips, bobbing his head up and down. The sudden, velvety, and wet sensation of his tongue running up and down Kenma’s shaft with the wetness of his mouth, Kuroo’s intense eye contact mounted Kenma’s pleasure to its peak.

At that very moment, Kuroo released him. His cock sprung free from his mouth with a wet pop. Kenma rolled his hips in the air, reaching his climax. He groaned, bending his head back and shut his eyes tightly, riding out the height of his pleasure, allowing it to overcome his body. Then he collapsed; panting, sweaty, and spent. His body felt like it was floating even as his skin stuck to the sheets. Opening his eyes, his mouth was left hanging as strands of his cum had splattered Kuroo’s face. 

“Kuro…”

Kuroo made a show of opening his mouth, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip, cleaning it of cum with a knowing grin that Kenma was going to enjoy every single second of him tasting his cum.

“Omegas taste sweeter than alphas.” He said. 

Kenma shivered. He gulped. His throat was dry, and his pulse was pounding throughout his body. He sat up tense, anticipating, and the bite mark on his thigh throbbing dully. Hayato’s words echoed in his head: _“They’re alphas, Kenma. You’re being used, and it’s just how they are._

“On your knees.” Kuroo said. His tone was gruff, foreign to Kenma who was accustomed to his gentleness. 

Kenma flinched at his harsh tone, staring at him for a second before averting his eyes. “K-Kuro, I…”

_“On your knees. Now.”_

Kenma obeyed with reluctance. Warmth from his body was fading into a cold sense of dread, but his limbs were paralyzed with fear. He looked behind him and the fear subsided in seconds as Kuroo told him to stop, followed by a heavy sigh. 

“I’m sorry.” Kuroo said, shaking his head. “I-- I’m just… Not like this.” His knuckles were white as he gripped the sheets. “I want you, honestly, I do.But I want you properly. No alcohol, no pheromones… No alpha, no omega. I just want you.”

The fear was dislodged from Kenma’s chest and he said, “I want you too. Properly. Not tonight.”

“Not tonight.” Kuroo laughed, shaking his head. “Let’s clean up. We made a mess. Well, _you_ made a mess of me.” He pointed at his face, and Kenma frowned. 

“You asked for it.” 

“Admittedly, you delivered. Aaaaall over my face.” He snickered. Their lightheartedness had returned and Kenma sighed with relief. Kuroo got off the bed and headed for the washroom.

“I’m not kissing you anymore.” Kenma scoffed. He was lying, of course. He'd be kissing Kuroo's forehead that night, as he slept with his face nestled against Kenma's chest.

The sound of the faucet being turned on was heard. “Yes mom, I’ll wash my face and brush my teeth too~”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a whole month but I just got through the busiest time of my life juggling internship + school! The good news is that I'm done with internship, but that means I also have to devote my time with my thesis. It just means more writing for me in the end :)
> 
> This chapter is probably the longest one yet + there's smut in it too, and I hope that makes up for my long absence!! While you guys were waiting the fic is now over 750 kudos and oohhhmygod how did that even happen. I know that I didn't respond to the comments this time around but trust me, I read them and they helped keep up my motivation while writing. Thank you for your continued support! I can't guarantee releasing chapters at the same speed as before, but at least now things are looking up for me and I hope they're looking up for you guys as well.
> 
> Sidenote: whatever games Kenma's playing, it means I was also playing them at the time while writing the chapter ahaha
> 
> Twitter 


	26. You and Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma and Kuroo make good on their desires.

_No alcohol. No pheromones. No alpha. No omega. I just want you._

The words echoed through Kenma’s head they sat at the dining table, discussing how they were to go about sex. They had agreed to take medicine to suppress their pheromones as much as possible. That meant using suppressants again, but there shouldn’t be any risk if he only does it very occasionally, according to Shimizu. 

That only left his heat to deal with. It was coming in a few days, much to their chagrin. Kuroo was visibly disheartened by the news when Kenma broke it to him, though he tried his best to hide his expression. Kenma was… looking forward to it himself. Though he was more nervous than Kuroo was, since it was his first time. Thinking about it, it was also the first time he was looking forward to anything remotely sexual that he knew about. He despised his heats in the past, the hassle they brought him, and the other encounters with Kuroo weren’t exactly forecasted either. 

An unmistakable energy wound around them like opposing electric fields zapping anything that came close. The slightest touch, the briefest glance, and any hint of suggestiveness in tone was enough to keep them both on the edge of their seats. It reached a point where it was as if they were strangers again, sitting away from each other on their couch, sleeping in separate rooms in silent agreement that if they touched each other, it could set something off. 

When his heat arrived, Kenma holed himself up in his room. Kuroo would leave food outside, knock loudly, then bolt as far away from the opening door as he could. Kenma suffered alone, and suffer he did. With his pheromones back in a decent state, it intensified his heats to what he could estimate as double what he usually felt. It left his body raw. The sheets tickled his skin, surrounding him with tingling sensations as he writhed in arousal, jerking and fingering himself fervently, while knowing his own fingers couldn’t compare to Kuroo’s, who could fill him up and send him cumming with a single jerk of his finger. The thought of him intensified his desperation. Whatever fiery sensation dancing all over his skin, whatever prickling arousal enveloping him, and whatever whatever orgasmic bliss he experienced was nothing compared to the yearning he had for Kuroo. His pleasure was incomplete without him; Kenma imagined him being ravaged over and over, stuck in a loop of missing him, wanting him, pleasuring himself, moaning his name without restraint. He was unable to control himself, and he didn’t want to. Moments after he came, he’d grow stiff again. The sheets were no help. The pillows he loved for their softness were unsatisfying to grind against; too unlike Kuroo’s solid and warm body. 

His bouts of pleasure would have intermissions in between: Kenma picking at the food, Akaashi’s messages, some attempts at showering (that didn’t end with jerking off), and the times when he’d cum so hard he saw stars in his vision accompanied by a blissful, dreamless sleep. What made it new to him was how he accepted it all without fighting, or some form of denial to justify his heat and most importantly his desire for Kuroo. Unbridled, Kenma imagined away. He imagined being taken in many positions all over the bed: bent over on all fours, pushed against the wall, on his stomach, legs raised, arms pinned above his head. But by far his favorite position, or what he liked imagining the most, was being fucked on his back. That way he could imagine Kuroo’s expression. Or what he’d like it to be. He’d have to get fucked for real to know it. 

When the tortuous week ended, all the scent of heat and arousal having ebbed away, Kenma’s head was heavy and his memories nothing but delightful and warm fuzziness. He took care of his mess with methodical efficiency that surprised himself, and told Kuroo through text it was over. 

Kuro: _Let’s wait three more days to be sure. Can’t be too careless, kitten ;)_

Kenma had never been so annoyed about putting something off for a later time. Fresh after his heat, and Kuroo wanted to wait? He took deep breaths before replying ‘ok np’ and pressed his face into his newly-cleaned pillow. His love for the softness returned, muffling his groans of disappointment. Kuroo wouldn’t hear it; he was at Bo’s again, as a precaution.

The next three days weren’t as bad as he thought, but the need from his heat was replaced by a gnawing sort of hunger in his gut. They kept their distance from each other, but each time Kuroo got too close, he wanted to be touched. He wanted Kuroo to pay attention to him. But keeping the peace, he distracted himself from the familiar hunger by playing games. In those three days he finished the Golden Deer route in Fire Emblem after Blue Lions. Kuroo joked about Kenma’s selected ‘endgame partner’ Claude replacing him as his boyfriend, despite Kenma choosing Claude due to his similarities with Kuroo. Kuroo’s light jealousy was amusing though, and he said nothing about it. Although he seemed unbothered on the outside, Kenma sorely wished Kuroo would reach over and ruffle his head like he usually did after a joke, or just when he felt like it. Was he stupid for missing that when it had only been a few days? 

On the night of the third day, Kenma threw himself out of his room and crawled into Kuroo's bed, flopping to lay his head on his outstretched leg. Kuroo was reading the paper, glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose, and Kenma purposefully faced away from him. Staring would be detrimental. Kuroo reached to pet Kenma's head, and he nuzzled into the touch without thinking. It felt like things were finally back to normal. 

"You're just like a cat," he said. "A liiiiittle kitten." 

Again with his teasing. His words were a hair-trigger, and Kenma punched his thigh in annoyance. He mostly hurt himself though, shaking his wrist in the air since his boyfriend's thigh was rock solid. So was the rest of his body, and the thought of it naked and above him crossed his mind. He cursed internally. The warm weight of Kuroo's palm on his head was comforting. 

"Let's do it, Kuro." He said, after a while of silence. The muscles of Kuroo’s thigh tensed beneath Kenma’s head. 

"Sounds good." He said after a while, choked. His grip was crinkling the newspaper, and Kenma chuckled.

"You look excited."

"And you're being pretty confident, yourself." Kuroo snorted, rolling his eyes. He put the paper aside, turning all his attention to Kenma. 

"It can only last so long," Kenma admitted, quickly losing confidence as Kuroo’s gaze unabashedly lingered on him. It’s like he was being scanned. Probed. All of a sudden Kenma was too aware of himself; his face, his body, and what he had just invited to happen. 

Kuroo was quick to test him with a teasing cant of his face, a quirked brow, and a smile. Combined with the glasses, it was devastating to Kenma as he tried to keep his advancing blush down. If Kuroo wanted him to take it back, he wasn’t going to. 

"Take me seriously." Kenma said, sitting up to meet his hazel eyes. It took all his will to not to close his eyes or face away as Kuroo closed the distance between their faces and kissed him. Kuroo hummed, a smirk forming on his lips as he ended the brief kiss to attack Kenma's weakness. His ears. He sucked and nibbled the lobe. Pulled it with his teeth. Tickled Kenma’s cheek with his hot breath as he said: “I’ll take you seriously tonight.” 

Pushing him away, Kenma glared at him, deeply flustered. “Ass.” His neck face and neck were tingling. 

“Shower up and take your time about it~” Kuroo snickered, rattling a white bottle filled with pills from the bedside table. 

“Well aren’t you prepared,” Kenma muttered. Not that he wasn’t. He had taken suppressants too. He got off the bed and went to Kuroo’s bathroom. Before closing the door he heard:

“I never said I wasn’t excited.” 

Inside the bathroom, Kenma’s heart pounded against his chest. He sucked in a deep breath, resting against the door. Collecting himself in a few moments, he turned on the shower to a hot temperature and stripped off his clothes. His reflection was a hazy smear as the steam fogged up the windows. Approaching the mirror, he wiped the surface with his hand until he could see his naked self. 

It was less gaunt and bony than he remembered. He swelled in some places, namely his belly and his hips; slight yet subtle curves had formed, and his complexion was rosier. Kenma was still thin in comparison to everyone he knew, but at least he could say he wasn’t scrawny anymore like some starving alley cat. He could pinch a considerable amount of skin from his sides now, which he found amusing. Eventually his reflection fogged up again, and only then did he get in the shower. 

\---  


“It’s super creepy how prepared you are for this.” Kenma said. He had come from the bath, in a bathrobe that was perfectly his size. “Did you measure me in my sleep?”

“Nah, I just got the extra, extra, extra-small one.” He replied, pinching to demonstrate. He stood from the bed, scratching his stomach, exposing a bit of his midsection to Kenma, who swiftly glanced away. He could already tell he was smirking from how he practically sauntered over to Kenma, stopping just before him. Kenma was faced with his broad chest. His body tingled with anticipation. He twiddled with his fingers, unsure of Kuroo’s next move. Though he was wrapped in the robe well enough, all it would take for him to be naked was for Kuroo to take the sash and tug it apart. Just like that. 

Kuroo touched his cheek and Kenma flinched at how hot his fingers were. He leaned over and pressed his nose against Kenma’s head, sniffing. 

“Not gonna lie, I really like it when you smell like me.” He laughed. 

“It’s just shampoo. Not like I had a choice.” Kenma said, goosebumps taking over his skin. The closing proximity prickled the few inches of space between them. He swallowed hard, waiting for Kuroo’s next move. 

“Don’t be so tense,” he said. He pat Kenma’s head once. “I’m taking a bath too. Go use that time to drink water or something. It’s important to stay hydrated before vigorous activity, y’know?” 

Kenma scrunched up his nose. “Ugh, stop advertising health to me.” 

“You’re going to be in for a workout, heh.” 

He returned after ten minutes. By then Kenma’s hair had dried and he was sitting on the edge of the bed quite comfortably, but with a strange blend of nervousness and excitement running through him. All was well until he saw Kuroo naked save for a towel on his head and another wrapped around his waist. Water dripped down his body, running over the swell of his muscles, the well-defined V past his abdomen, guiding his eyes downward. He stopped there, forcing his eyes to meet Kuroo’s smug expression. 

“Looks like somebody likes what he’s seeing~” His thumb released the towel, dropping it to the floor to reveal he was still wearing his briefs underneath. 

Kenma stared at him, unamused. 

Kuroo picked up the towel he dropped, neatly draping it over a chair. “What, I was trying to lighten the mood! I’m positive you liked my joke.” He rubbed his hair with the towel. His hair was mostly down from the water, but parts of it were already sticking up into a spiky mess. If Kenma didn’t know Kuroo as well as he did, he would have mistaken this Kuroo for a stranger. 

He answered, “I give it a two out of five.” 

“Whaaat? That’s such a disappointing score,” Kuroo said, crawling over the bed. The towel on his head fell. Up close, he smelled like his shampoo. Tea tree, or something like that. Up closer, his wet skin was radiating warmth Kenma longed to touch after so long. “I should have just shown you the real thing.” 

“Depends on your delivery. I could bump it up to maybe a three or a four.” Kenma didn’t know where all this confidence was coming from. He was exchanging jokes with Kuroo like it was normal, even as he was being gently pushed to his back on the bed, laying between Kuroo’s legs. 

“What should I do for a perfect score?” Kuroo asked, grinning above him. 

“Come down here and I’ll tell you.” Said Kenma, beckoning him closer and closer until they were kissing. He wrapped his arms around Kuroo’s neck, sucking greedily at him. His hands explored the thick roots of his still-wet hair, pulling away for a second to tell Kuroo he was like a wet dog. He growled playfully, following Kenma’s jaw with a trail of kisses. He stifled Kenma’s chuckling with a playful bite of his ear. Kenma gasped, arching his back. Presenting himself, Kuroo took hold of the sash and tugged on it until the robes were loose and explored Kenma’s skin with his warm hands. Kenma’s toes curled. He shut his eyes and tilted his head back, letting out a deep sigh of satisfaction. 

“How am I doing?” Kuroo whispered. The puff of his hot breath against skin sent shivers throughout Kenma. His cock twitched in response. Kuroo’s hand was rubbing circles around his thigh. 

“Two point three,” he answered, voice shaky. “Point f-four,” as Kuroo licked up his neck and sucked. 

Kuroo hummed, his mouth travelling down, down his neck, brushing his lips against Kenma’s collarbone, stopping at his chest where he pried Kenma’s hand from blocking his chest after being given affirming nod. His lips grazed the curve of his chest, finding the space in between and lavishing it with kisses. Kuroo found his nipple and licked the hardened nub. Kenma shuddered, bracing himself as he took it into his mouth and sucked. Kuroo’s hand began tweaking his other nipple, and he arched his back again, stifling a gasp. 

He was rolling the nipple around with his tongue, taking pleasure in how Kenma was squirming beneath him. Releasing him for a brief moment to suck the other nipple, Kuroo scooped up the raised curve of his back to bring him closer. He nibbled, smiling when Kenma yelped, only to have his head bent back when Kenma pulled on his hair. 

“Something wrong?” He grinned. 

“It’s ticklish,” Kenma mumbled, releasing his hair. 

“You like ticklish,” said Kuroo, kissing his midsection. Warm hands rubbed his sides, tracing the curve of his waist, his hips, and his thighs. The touch was greedy and the long and thick fingers aimed to roam all of Kenma’s goosebump-covered skin. Kenma was warm putty in his hands, turning rigid only when he touched a sensitive spot, which Kuroo took full advantage of. He kneaded and pressed, tickled and gripped. All so he could ease out more deep breaths, gasps, and moans from Kenma. Purposefully, he avoided touching Kenma where he needed it the most. Kuroo had his ways of provoking people into doing something, and tonight he wanted Kenma to say it. No amount of grunting or “Kuro”’s would help Kenma. 

“Please…” Kenma murmured. 

“Please what?” Kuroo smiled, feigning innocence. Asshole. 

“You’re horrible.” Said Kenma, glaring at him. He might break out into a smile or laugh. 

It wasn’t the reaction Kuroo was expecting, and his face said it all. “Am I that bad?” His expression was marked with genuine concern; Kenma was almost taken out of it. 

“What? No.”

“Oh, I just thought… You might have done stuff before.”

Kenma gave him a quizzical look. “What stuff?” 

“I,” Kuroo hesitated, glancing up like a teacher just asked him a difficult question. “Was assuming you might have done it with Akaashi or something, and I’m not being as gentle.” 

“Um…” 

“And I didn’t want to bring it up, or be presumptuous, but y’know…” 

Kenma sighed, shaking his head. “Kuro, I’ve never done it with anyone before.” 

“Eh?” Kuroo gaped at him like a fish out of water. 

“Eh.” Kenma nodded. 

Kuroo paused. His eyes were glancing around as if attempting to solve difficult computations while making sense of the news of Kenma’s virginity. His reaction is what made Kenma realize that he had been so caught up in the euphoria of his desire that he forgot just how embarrassing it was to be 27 and a virgin. “Stop making it weird!” He snapped, and Kuroo blinked into focus. “I thought you knew.” 

“Sorry I just… I really didn’t. Oh my god,” his voice broke, “I wasn’t prepared at all. I should have gotten you roses or candles, or something. This is so unromantic.” 

Kenma covered his heated face, biting back a laugh. When his shoulders shook and he could no longer contain himself, he burst into a bout of giggles. 

“Please stop laughing at me, Kenma. I was serious.” 

“You’re being silly. I don’t need flowers, Kuro.” Kenma snorted. “It’s fine. This is nice.” And he meant that. There was nobody better to have spent his first time with. 

“Five points?” Kuroo asked, hopeful. 

“Three.” He replied. “I still have to stop being a virgin first.” 

“Better get to work then,” he laughed, rolling off Kenma and sitting up. “But since it’s your first time, I want to put you in charge.” 

Kenma groaned. “Don’t give me responsibility.” 

He tutted, wagging his finger. “Hey, I’m giving you full license over me. C’mere,” he said, leaning against the pillows and patting his lap. Ever the considerate one, he said: “You set the pace. Tonight, we’re doing anything and everything you want.” 

“I just want you to take charge,” he mumbled, straddling Kuroo’s lap anyway. Admittedly, he had a point. 

“You don’t seem so sure about that,” he grinned. 

“Shush, you.” 

Kuroo pursed his lips shut, making a show of zipping it. Though his eyes were playful, his gaze was focused on Kenma. Again with that provocative, half-lidded expression. Kuroo was waiting, even if he couldn’t say it. Kenma’s heart thumped against his chest, and his nervousness reared its head. He glanced away. 

“I-I can’t think when you’re looking at me like that. Can we turn the lights off?”

“Yes, anything you want.” Kuroo replied, reaching up easily to flick the switch by his bed. The room fell into darkness, and Kenma exhaled with relief. He shed the robe, dropping it past the bed where he couldn’t see. Only touch, and hear, and smell. Kuroo’s bare skin was warm against his own, smelling like the soap they had used. His body was firm and he remembered briefly the pillows he was desperately grinding against a few days ago. His position was similar. Now Kuroo was underneath him, his to control. His hand rested on Kenma’s thigh, lazily rubbing circles. 

“May I touch you?” 

“Of course.” Kuroo said, without a hint of teasing or sarcasm which Kenma appreciated. 

Kenma reached in in the dark, touching an area between Kuroo’s neck and collarbone first. It pulsed with a steady heartbeat, warm. He stroked lightly, carefully, as if tracing his form more than touching it. He traced the swell of his shoulders down to his bicep with one hand, and the other his firm chest. He felt like a statue breathing with life. It was all Kenma could hear past the beat of his own heart; Kuroo’s breathing, which stilled and shuddered with his touch. 

Exploring his arm ended with their hands clasped together, melded together for a moment before Kenma led it to waist, unoccupied. 

“Touch me.” he told Kuroo. Words he never thought he’d say, much less to anyone. Much less to an alpha. Warmth enveloped his skin and he shuddered as Kuroo lifted his other hand from his thigh, squeezing Kenma’s waist lightly, as if sculpting a vase. 

“I like your body,” Kuroo said from the darkness. “It’s so attractive, you know that?” He gripped Kenma’s hips, pressing his fingers into the skin. Kenma inhaled sharply as their hips ground against each other. 

“I like your body too,” he mumbled. His hands drifted down to Kuroo’s abs. “You’re built like a statue.”

“Like a Greek statue?” Kenma didn’t even have to see to know he was smirking. 

“The discount version.” 

He could imagine Kuroo’s displeased expression from the snort. “Then that makes you a garden gnome, short-ass little gremlin.”

Kenma chuckled. “So I’m not attractive.”

“Wha-- Yes you are! You’re just-- the sexiest motherfucking gremlin on earth, there!”

Kenma laughed. He liked this. He leaned down to press his forehead against Kuroo, their noses brushing. There was no tension; it came naturally to him, to touch Kuroo freely in the dark. Kuroo held his breath and his body tightened. The hands on Kenma’s sides stilled. 

“Can I kiss you, Kuro?” 

He laughed, and Kenma, for a second, regretted turning off the lights because somewhere in the dark he had missed Kuroo’s boyish grin. “I never thought you’d ask.” 

So he kissed him. And kissed him. And kissed him. It held a strange yet ordinary bliss, to ask first then kiss; their lips feeling each other in the dark, their bodies shifting to fill the gaps between each other. Softly, gently. No such thing as haste when they knew and liked each other for the time they took lavishing the other with keen affection. 

The lightest friction of skin against skin sent tingles throughout Kenma. He shuddered and lifted his face from the kissing, grinding his hips against Kuroo who grasped him by the waist and spread his cheeks. Exposing his hole to the air, Kenma shuddered again, grunting for him to keep going. 

“Just a sec, kitten.” Kuroo kissed his cheek. The little pet name left his ears tingling. Kuroo slid open a drawer, taking something out. It was followed by the sound of something liquid being squeezed out of a bottle. He surprised Kenma with the moist feeling of his hot fingers tracing the curve of his ass before he rubbed against his entrance. Kenma reacted with eagerness, pushing his hips against the fingers until Kuroo inserted the first digit in. 

_“Oh,”_ he moaned. 

“Tell me if I’m hurting you.” 

Kenma shook his head. Kuroo can’t hurt him. “Keep going,” he whispered. Kuroo’s finger entered him easily; he was already wet and the lube helped slide it in further. It didn’t take long for him to be knuckle-deep, Kenma’s entrance twitching and squeezing like it was trying to suck him in. His breathing grew ragged while the finger pushed and curled inside him, searching for his delicate prostate. Kuroo told him he was putting another one in and he nodded, gripping his shoulders and taking refuge in the crook of his neck. When the second finger probed against the tight ring of muscle, he emitted a low moan, surprising himself with how easily it managed to slip in again. He gasped when he had taken in the full length of his digits, gyrating his hips while Kuroo pumped in and out. His other hand kept Kenma spread by pulling at his cheek.

“I’m putting another one in,” murmured Kuroo. 

He couldn’t help a snarky remark. “Might as well include your whole fist while you’re-- ngh!” 

With a single curl of his finger, Kuroo silenced him, chuckling softly to himself while Kenma rocked his hips back and forth. Kuroo did it on purpose. Their cocks were hard against each other, with Kenma’s beginning to drip with precum over Kuroo’s waist. You’re horrible, Kenma wanted to tell him. Horribly good at fingering him, that’s what. 

It was possible Kenma wouldn’t return to using his own fingers to get off after this, not when Kuroo’s was so conveniently thicker and longer, and most importantly he didn’t have to exert the effort of moving it himself, with the slight caveat that Kuroo was free to toy with him as he wished. And toy he did, pressing and releasing the sensitive spot before Kenma could be satisfied. 

“Kuro,” he pleaded, growing restless. 

“I know, kitten,” Kuroo murmured, kissing his ear. “Relax for me?” 

Nodding, Kenma inhaled a shaky breath. The two fingers inside him stretched him slightly, testing his looseness while he resisted the urge to clench back. Slowly, Kuroo eased the third finger in, Kenma holding back a groan. It felt like both his legs were being tugged from one end to the other. He held his breath, clenching his eyes and jaw, bracing himself. That’s when Kuroo stopped, telling him to take deep breaths again. His voice was calm and patient, almost to a fault because he felt a twinge of guilt for taking so long. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “It’s hard to… not be tense.”

He kissed him again on the forehead, his hand running down his back. “Don’t be sorry, it’s your first time, it happens. Try to settle your breathing, I can feel your heartbeat in my bones,” he laughed. 

Kenma laughed too, eased. “I just feel silly. I’m so old and yet,” he paused. “I’m lucky too. I’m glad it’s you.”

Now it was Kuroo’s turn to tense up. He paused, speechless. A few moments later he dipped his head and found Kenma’s throat with his lips, kissing and sucking all over so that it tickled, and Kenma giggled softly, bending his neck. Kenma felt the heat radiating off his face with each kiss. 

“Not so fast,” Kuroo said, after the vicious assault of ticklish kisses. “We need to get you laid first!” 

“Oh right, I forgot about that,” he joked, gasping as Kuroo moved his fingers again, faster this time so that it was his turn to be speechless, and possibly as payback for his little joke. It was easier for him to push the finger inside after his nervousness had subsided, but being filled to that amount was another struggle. He kept silent, trying not to push Kuroo out. It ached slightly, and Kuroo waited for him to adjust before pumping in and out. He moaned again, curling his toes and stretching them. It felt like nothing Kenma had ever done with himself. With each thrust, his hips responded in kind, gyrating to encourage Kuroo to touch him where it felt best. Kuroo obliged, pressing his finger against his prostate and Kenma moaned without fail. 

While Kuroo fingered him, Kenma followed the line of Kuroo’s hips until he found the waistband of his briefs and tugged him free. 

“Ken--”

Kenma shushed him by grasping the head of his cock and rubbing the slit with the flat of his thumb. Kuroo shuddered under him and Kenma grinned at his reaction. He cursed under his breath, pushing his fingers deeper into Kenma, merciless in how he pressed the sensitive area until Kenma saw stars in his vision, unable to moan, his mouth hung open while he trembled in his spot, heat dominating his body, concentrated in his face, neck, fingers, and feet; thighs trembling, hips twitching, spine arching, all building to a white hot peak until he threw his head back with a silent moan, cumming. 

He collapsed over Kuroo’s chest, and only then did he feel his own cum splattered between them. He couldn’t resist a soft grunt of discomfort when his stomach was all sticky. As he relaxed, Kuroo slowly pulled his fingers out of him, wiping it on his ass (which he didn’t mind as much, for some reason.)

“It’ll be worse,” Kuroo told him. 

“It _could_ be worse, you mean.” 

“No, it’ll be worse. I’m going to have you cum all night. Payback for a week ago, when all I could hear every night was you moaning ‘Kuro’ over and over.”

He flushed, silently thankful it was dark. “I hate you.” 

“I hate you too~ So sadistic, begging for me over and over, knowing I couldn’t go ahead and do that.” He snickered. Kuroo pat his ass. “So do it for me now.” 

Kenma could sort of see his grin as his eyes were adjusting in the dark. He huffed a few times and sat upright. The length of Kuroo’s hard cock stood hot against his skin, and he swallowed. As he held it once more, he realized just how thick it was in his grasp. Kuroo exhaled, laying his hands on Kenma’s thighs in waiting. There was a knob in his throat, and his chest was pounding from nervousness. Raising his hips, he adjusted himself over the head. Kuroo held himself steady for him, as Kenma lowered himself. He guided the tip, pressing it against his loosened entrance. 

“Deep breaths,” Kuroo reminded him. He rubbed his thighs, slow and soothing. 

“Mmm,” he nodded, doing as he was told. As he did so, a myriad of thoughts entered his mind. What if it couldn’t do it? What if it hurts too much? What if Kuroo thought he was taking too long? Could he even get it past the first inch? 

He hadn’t realized his body tensed up when Kuroo sat upright, meeting their foreheads. “You don’t have to force yourself, we can do this another night.” 

“I want to.” Kenma said. “I want you.” The hard lump in his throat won’t go away. By sheer coincidence, or maybe it was some strange power of… corniness, Kuroo kissed his throat and just like that it went away. Kuroo asked him again if he sure. He is. He kissed Kuroo’s nose. “I told you, you should have taken the lead.” Kenma got off him and they switched positions. When the soft pillows hit his back he felt how warm it was from Kuroo’s body. His familiar, dark shape moved on top of him, holding the sides of his thighs and parting them to accommodate his form. Kuroo took a few seconds to coat himself in lube before kenma felt his head press against the ring of muscle, each stroke of Kuroo’s building anticipation in his chest. He exhaled, and Kuroo pushed it in, Kenma allowing him inside with a soft grunt. It felt like he was being pried apart inch by inch as the thick shaft followed, accompanied by a contrasting mix of dull pain---aching---and Kuroo’s gentle encouragement. He tried his best, breathing to relax when Kuroo told him he was tense, but Kenma had never experienced something so thick inside of him, that any further than where Kuroo was inside contributed to the suffocating feeling in his chest like he was about to burst like a bubble. He opened his eyes and saw nothing but his silhouette above him, and he tensed up. 

That’s when Kuroo stopped, allowing him to catch his breath. Kenma sighed, adjusting himself as well as he could to the strange sensation. Nothing wholly bad, but far from where he’d call comfortable, let alone pleasurable. His cock felt like an intrusion if anything, and it wasn’t helped by the fact he couldn’t see Kuroo’s face. So reaching up to touch his boyfriend’s cheek, with surprising softness to his voice, he asked if he could turn on the lamp and Kuroo told him ‘of course,’ with the same gentleness in return. 

In a second, the lamp was lit. Soft orange light, illuminating their sweaty bodies, revealing each line and curve of their limbs and hips and noses and lips. It elicited goosebumps and tremors; spreading all over his body to see Kuroo’s labored and sweaty face, smiling above him, and suddenly breathing was possible again. Kuroo started moving after Kenma nodded, pushing with soft grunts. Kenma groaned and twitched, the heat in his body rising as it slid in. The effort in his grunts, the sweat rolling off his and Kuroo’s body. The ends of his fingers and toes felt like fire. Finally, he was filled all the way to the hilt. Relief washed over him with a sigh. 

“Did I hurt you?” Kuroo’s voice was barely above a whisper. 

Kenma shook his head. “You’re just so big so I… Unbelievable.” His tone fell flat, frowning at Kuroo when his dick twitched inside. 

“Listen,” Kuroo said, without following up. Only a blush on his face to explain himself. After a while, he held Kenma’s waist and he squeezed around Kuroo. “You’ve gotten relaxed,” he murmured. The look he gave acted as a question itself, and Kenma nodded, a retort dying in his mind somewhere. He can’t deny Kuroo’s little… mannerisms relaxed him. The ache of him inside had faded mostly once he adjusted himself. They exchanged a kiss, tender and sweet before Kuroo moved his hips in long, slow strokes that stole Kenma’s breath from his chest. In a single slow thrust back, he let out a throaty moan while bending his head back against the pillows. He covered his mouth, muffling the strange, foreign noises he made. Different from his his moans when he was alone; these noises were more drawn out, coming from the very bottom of his throat. Kuroo gave a grunt of protest, gripping his skin with his heated hands, and with a husky low voice, urging him to be let it out, like it was so easy. 

“I-I sound weird…” He whispered, unable to make himself any louder when most of his breaths were devoted to panting.

“I like it.” Kuroo told him, dipping to whisper to his ear. _“Let me hear you.”_

Sensitive there, Kenma moaned for him, hugging his back. Kuroo grunted as he squeezed around his cock. Invigorated, Kuroo’ sped up his thrusts; still slow, but now in fluid motions in and out of him, filling him up for a second before pulling out again. The buildup of his own pleasure was gradual just like his strokes, and he didn’t know when it started but suddenly he realized Kuroo’s hands were no longer on his waist, but holding his legs up, and it was himself who was moving his own hips. He lost shyness somewhere along the way, letting himself be heard by Kuroo, who smiled in encouragement, brushing a lock of hair and the sweat from his forehead, leaning down to plant one kiss as if to say he was doing a great job. He shuddered, hugging Kuroo tighter. His thrusts sped up and so did Kenma’s hips. His breathing grew ragged as his arousal spiked. Then, Kuroo grabbed hold of his cock and rubbed it with his palm. He flinched at first, then arched into his touch, digging his fingers into Kuroo’s shoulder blades as stars filled his vision, and pleasure in his veins scattering throughout him, holding him captive under Kuroo. He wasn’t going to last much longer; already his hips were twitching and his mind was a blur. Again Kuroo kissed him and he responded with such hunger, sucking him in and probing his tongue inside; a kiss filled with barely-muffled moans and their names exchanged between breaths. Kuro, Kuro, Kuro, he groaned with each thrust, his pitch rising as he got closer and closer to his climax. And Kuro, eager to please, thrusted and thrusted until Kenma was nothing but heat and pleasure rising to the point at which he jerked his hips suddenly, shutting his eyes tight, cumming fast and hard. His insides closed around Kuroo, who growled, fighting against the spasms that were pushing him out. Grasping Kenma’s waist, he kept their hips grinding against each other, groaning as Kenma rode out his orgasm, twitching around him. 

Kuroo cursed, wiping his forehead. His chest was glistening, heaving. He was still stiff inside, and ready to go for another round. Kenma was certain, because Kuroo was licking his lips with half-lidded expression, ogling the mess splattered all over his stomach. He told Kenma he was going to pull out before doing so slowly, and with surprising ease since the orgasm’s afterglow allowed him to relax further. It made a strange wet noise as he pulled out, which he cringed at. 

“Just imagine I have party poppers right now,” Kuroo said, snickering. “Congrats, you’re not a virgin anymore!” He clapped his hands in mock celebration. 

“I would punch you so hard right now.” Kenma groaned, not exactly in the state to sit up and do so. “You’re still hard.” 

Kuroo hummed. “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with it. You just sit there tight, pillow-princess~” 

Kenma stopped him. “One more.” 

Kuroo smiled. “No.”

Kenma flipped himself over his stomach and pushed himself up on all fours. He was vulnerable like this, still tingling from his orgasm. Shaky knees and trembling thighs held up his bare ass, and he heard Kuroo suck in a breath. He wasn’t doing this out of obligation either; some genuine part of him so desperately wanted to be filled again; to be touched, held, and kissed again in the new way that Kuroo did. 

He glanced at Kuroo. “Please?”

Kuroo was pinching the bridge of his nose, at an impasse seemingly, but he made up his mind and cupped Kenma’s asscheek. “Very hot argument. You’ve convinced me.” 

Kenma turned away from his mischievous grin, spreading his legs slightly to prepare himself, and partly to hide his flustered face. It didn’t help at all when Kuroo kissed his back. He began from the bottom, tracing the curve of his spine with butterfly kisses while his hands swept over Kenma’s chest, his waist, hips, then his thighs. He could only shudder, helpless while Kuroo had his way, already trailing kisses between his shoulder blades. Kenma’s nape prickled from the light touch and he flinched. Kuroo switched to his shoulders instead, mapping the spots between there and his ears with his lips. Kenma was tingling with anticipation, gulping hard while Kuroo’s hands explored the familiar territory of his hole, stretching it out for his re-entry. Kuroo worked him easily, steadying himself upright while aligning the tip of his cock against him. 

“Relax,” he reminded Kenma. 

Kenma took a few deep breaths, stretching his cheeks to help. Kuroo cursed under his breath, pressing his warm tip inside. He pushed inside with a low groan, and Kenma heaved, his knees trembling from the effort. He pushed back against his hip until the tip hit the nerve. Jolts of pleasure exploded throughout his small frame, shaking him stiff and tightly squeezing around Kuroo’s cock, his walls twitching. Stars were flooding his vision, followed by darkness, then the cool pillow hitting his face. He moaned, pushing his torso up with quivering elbows. Not even a second later, Kuroo pushed against that spot again, and again the same gratifying reaction that turned him into a pile of want and need, helplessly moaning “Kuro, Kuro,” over and over while he fully exploited his position with slow, controlled, but deep thrusts. Kenma was losing himself, his grip on what was happening; all he could focus on was the sensation of heated pleasure eating him up. There was sweat all over his skin, and his lungs burned with the exertion of each breath and groan. Kuroo’s mixed in, grunting “Kenma” over, telling him how tight he is, how good he feels, and how much Kuroo likes him. Kenma responded in kind. 

“I… l-like you…!” He moaned, gasping as Kuroo hit the spot again. His thrusts have grown faster, reaching deeper inside of him; and when Kenma thought he couldn’t thrust any harder, Kuroo would do just that, leaving him little time to think about his shyness.

“Fuck, you’re honest tonight,” Kuroo growled, jerking him up by the elbow so that his back touched Kuroo’s hard, chiseled chest. Kuroo grabbed his chin and kissed him, his other hand rubbing over Kenma’s cum-splattered waist to fondle his cock that had stiffened immediately in his hand. The moan he elicited from Kenma allowed his tongue entry, exploring his mouth with ease. Kenma was first to pull away, gasping for sweet, sweet breath. “I like you honest,” he moaned to Kenma, jerking his hips.

Kenma gasped sharply once more as Kuroo hit that spot again, and he bent back his head to groan against his shoulder. Kuroo, spotting an opportunity, began lavishing his neck with kisses, nibbles, and licks all leading to his sensitive ears. Kenma let out a high-pitched noise, grabbing hold of Kuroo’s arms to steady himself as his back arched. His cock was twitching hard and around his stomach was a sensation burning like something on the verge of explosion. 

“Kuro please,” he groaned hotly. “I need you!” 

Without warning his upper half was pressed back to the pillows, Kuroo’s hot and heavy hand keeping him firm while Kuroo pummeled him from behind. Shock faded into ecstasy in an instant. Kenma wracked with pleasure, Kenma couldn’t even make a sound, save for his labored breaths and the smack of skin against skin, filling the room alongside Kuroo’s husky, low voice, a sound that deepened as his cock twitched inside of him. 

“Kenma, I’m close.” he said, having leaned over to whisper, perhaps purposefully, into Kenma’s ears. 

They were like magic words that unlocked something in Kenma. He nodded his head. “C-cum in me, Kuro!” 

And it was as if he had unlocked something in Kuroo too. Suddenly his thrusts were merciless with the intent of obliterating his prostate. The voice to Kenma’s moaning returned; high-pitched, wanton, and needy. He felt the ache of his hips from moving so much, and the twinge of his poor knees, but he kept moving his hips, his climax building and building upwards. 

Kuroo’s hand traveled upwards, closing around his nape while pressing Kenma’s face firmly against the sheets. He leaned over and growled, deep and intense and animalistic, suddenly muffled while Kenma felt his hot breath against his skin. He groaned as the last few thrusts from Kuroo penetrated him deep, each ending with a loud smack against his cheeks. 

Bliss. 

It overcame him. He came once again as white-hot ecstasy filled him; Kuroo spilling his cum inside Kenma, pushing his hips inside like he still had more to give. Kenma whimpered, shaking his head and heard a wet noise like something was released. Kuroo exhaled and gently adjusted himself, utterly finished. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, rubbing Kenma’s sides gently. 

“Hnnn,” Kenma nodded, his head all sorts of pleasant fuzz and fluff swirling inside like a dream. 

“I’m going to pull out now,” Kuroo said. 

Kenma nodded again, taking a deep breath. It took a while for Kuroo to slowly work himself out but Kenma almost regret that he did when he felt the hollowness it left him, and the spike of panic when a bit of his cum started dripping out. 

Kuroo fetched a small towel from one of the drawers and wiped him down until he was clean enough. Only then did it hit him. 

He just had sex. 

It’s as if the world was being restructured before his eyes. Awareness of every single one of his body parts turned apparent; his nakedness, the heartbeat against his chest, the dull throb of his body from the exertion, and how close Kuroo was in proximity, just as naked as he was. It probably didn’t mean to him as much, but Kenma was brimming with gratefulness inside because it was him, and not someone else. It was Kuroo Tetsurou. 

“You look like you just lost everything,” Kuroo said, wiping himself down. “Was it that bad?” He asked, jokingly.

Kenma flushed, glaring at him, and his audacity to ask that after hearing all of those embarrassing noises and things he said, having seen him in his most ‘honest’ state, while wiping himself down with that towel. “...You’re the worst.” 

Kuroo broke into a wide grin, closing the distance between their faces so that their noses touched. He laughed, and kissed Kenma on the tip of his nose. “You know it~” 

And he couldn’t help but blush again, turning his head away. As he did so, something strange caught his eye. There on the bed were dark stains. His mind jumped to blood, and he found it odd because there was never a moment in which he felt anything tear. To be sure he checked himself and found no trace of blood on the sheets he was on. So he stared at Kuroo, who was looking away with something to hide. 

“Kuro.” 

“Listen, it’s fine.” he said immediately.

Obviously, it wasn’t. “Show me where.” 

Kuroo scratched the back of his head, then grunted as if stung. Caught red-handed, literally, he presented his hand to Kenma, who held his breath at the sight of the dark red bite mark Kuroo had inflicted upon himself. Then he remembered, Kuroo’s hand clamping around his nape and all he could say was: “You big idiot.” 

Like he saw it coming, Kuroo just laughed. “I told you, it’s fine.”

“Clean it.” He ordered. 

“So pushy, I’m injured, y’know?” Kuroo mock-pouted, and Kenma threw a sweaty pillow at his face, which he caught with his non-bitten hand. 

“Let me worry for you,” Kenma said. 

At that, Kuroo dropped his mischievous face and nodded. “Gotcha.”

\---

“I still can’t believe you.” Kenma grumbled. 

“This isn’t exactly the pillow-talk I had in mind,” Kuroo said, draping his arm over Kenma’s waist. “It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing, but I controlled myself!” 

He should consider himself lucky Kenma let him, still riding the high of the afterglow. Plus, Kuroo looked sincere enough. He understood, but that didn’t make him any less pleased about the mild injury. Though, some part of him was secretly glad he did. Though his first time was nothing short of fantastic, the idea of being bonded partners wasn't sitting well with him at present. “You did, but while harming yourself? You’re an idiot.” 

“I just…” Kuroo paused, inhaling deeply, then exhaling. Kenma felt his warm chest rise against his back. They were both under the blankets not, all cleaned up but still naked. “Didn’t want you to have any regrets after, y’know that.”

“I’m going to slap you in the face tomorrow, when I can move my hips again. I’m glad it’s you.” 

Kuroo gave a breathy chuckle. “You spoil me. I’m glad it’s you, too.”

Hearing someone else say that, it was as if the fuzziness in Kenma’s head had covered his body. He nudged his shoulder for Kuroo to hold him closer. Kuroo obliged, and Kenma sighed, content. 

“Was I good to you?” Kuro asked, after a few moments passed. 

“What kind of a question is that?” Kenma retorted, as sleep was claiming him. He yawned. “Kuro, you’re too good to me.” 

“No, I--”

Kenma touched his palm, meeting it with his without clasping, so that he wouldn’t hurt Kuroo. “Let’s sleep.” 

So they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I am fashionably late once again :D So I hope you liked my Director's Cut of their first time hehe. After 26 chapters, they finally do it! But the story's not ending here yet, there's much more in store in the future :) If the pace was too draggy, I apologize;;
> 
> With that being said though, I'm going to have to prioritize my thesis instead of the chapters, so while I'm not 100% going on a hiatus, updates definitely won't be coming regularly. Don't worry, I still love this story and I want to keep writing it, but as it stands right now, I can't put my focus into it as much as I want to. Now that's out of the way, the fic somehow hit 800+ kudos, so thank you for all the support!


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